The Master Chef aboard Relentless was all in a tizzy. None other than Captain Landarian himself had within the hour taken him aside and very concisely filled him in as to the guests soon to be seated at his table. The Chef had gawked briefly, then whirled without executing so much as a departing salute and fled into his galley. Behind him his captain merely smiled, perhaps a bit grimly; the hot-blooded artiste d' haute cuisine was one of the privileged few aboard the immense ship who could get away with such flamboyancy.

Time passed all too quickly; the Master drove his crew mercilessly. It wasn't so much the matter that Lt. General Tarnus was aboard--

Ye gods, was that actually him? The icy-eyed one sitting next to Captain Landarian? Was that what the man truly looked like beneath his armor? Who would have guessed....

--but that there was a Sith there as well.

Two of them, even.

A tremor raced through his blood as he coursed from subchef to subchef, from one underling to the next apprentice, driving them all toward the perfection he so much feared he would not be able to achieve with this meal.

And if that perfection would not be reached, it would be the first failure of his entire life. It simply would not be tolerated.

But...

What in the name of all the universe is proper fare for a Sith?!?

He swallowed, hastening back and forth even faster, more furiously, sampling this and chiding when and where necessary.

Everything had to be perfect. Simply perfect.

And at last the moment came. A trembling server had crept up to him to inform him that the Lt. General and Captain and guests were seated, with a fine Alderaanian brandy already served to them as an opener.

Recollection of the earlier sense of near doubt coming from Romanus came to her again; her tracing finger quieted and she just let her hand lay without moving on his chest. His eyes were close to hers... yet completely unfathomable to her, so dark and depthless did they appear.

Eyes like a shark. Precise, cold, killing, black; something other...?

She pursed her lips and shifted her body, raising a bit higher on her supporting elbow. Gazing into those black eyes in front of her, she let her own soften.

"You seem... uncomfortable, Romanus," she whispered. "What is it that makes me sense this about you? Is it I, in choosing you as my consort? Or is there something else pulling at you, something with which perhaps I can now assist you?"

“But one who returned to the light”

…struck him deeply. It was something Romanus never considered, and probably neither did the scientists.

But its not gonna happen. I’m in control. Its not gonna happen…

At that, Romanus let out a sigh and made a smile to both reassure himself and the woman that laid next to him. Being her consort was a mixed blessing, considering now that she was his (or was it the other way around?) but also the kind of power he would be able to wield. Perhaps Romanus was too ambitious for this…

Bloody hell, what am I thinking? Greatest opportunity of my life, and I’m gonna pass up on it?! Wake up, Romanus!

...but he had been insistent that turning down the Empire's generosity in any manner would be an unwise move at this point. So at length she agreed, managing not to point out the fact that he wouldn't be the one dealing with the fashion display since his typical black flightsuit looked formal enough as it was. But then, he probably knew she was thinking that regardless.

Smoothing her dress out for the upteenth time since she had been seated, Shayla placed a napkin on her lap and simply waited as the chefs and servers scurried about, making certain everything was done to perfection. Meanwhile her keen greeny-blues shifted from one individual at the table to another, still surprised that Tarnus had arrived out of his armor.

Was this a show of trust? Or simply an indication of his security and command in this situation? Of course, the fact that it is probably rather difficult to eat with a helmet on might have something to do with it...

...but then, bounty hunters had their ways.

At length the arrival of the main course jarred Shayla from these thoughts. As the servers laid out the food...

Sheesh, this was a small dinner?!

...Shayla took another sip of her brandy, for once not concerned about getting just a tiny bit tipsy. Enticing smells began to fill the air...

...and Shayla suddenly realized just how long it had been since she had eaten really well.

There was that blotsch Phalomir had made back on Khar Delba...

At that thought, Shayla made a slight face. Then she brushed it away, cocking her head and cutting her eyes momentarily to her husband, who was finishing his own brandy. Then once more she scanned the table, taking in the body language of each individual and using her Force senses a bit to scope out emotions...

...which were many and wide-ranging.

And there was something about the Captain which seemed impressively inscrutable...

...too inscrutable for the normal human, perhaps...

Keeping this particular observation at the forefront of her mind, Shayla simply waited to see what would happen next...

...and all the while couldn't help but wonder if ladies would be first...

It shall present itself when the time is right, she mused to herself as she quietly studied him, now letting her own expression grow as unreadable as his. But for now....

"A surprise I am delighted to have had you accept, Romanus," she said smoothly. She rolled abruptly on her back, and lay there a moment staring into the shadows above her. Images quite removed from the intricately carved ceiling danced in her eyes.

Another memory surfaced.

"Tell me why you came to K'eel Doba, Romanus," she said softly, still staring upward, letting the heat of his proximity warm her.

I brought the glass I had raised smoothly to my lips in the wake of Captain Landarian's opening toast, watching the others carefully over its rim. Our guests were sitting in varying degrees of caution, eyes darting quickly hither and yon, brandies sipped almost as an afterthought, the appetizer paraded forth picked at as though it might bite.

Well... let me amend that statement. Erik Kartan appeared thus; his spouse seemed to dig in with a touch more gusto while the smaller of the two Sith attacked his food like there was no tomorrow. Long practice kept my expression absolutely bland when I saw the dark look the proclaimed Lord -- er, that is, "Lord-to-Be" -- shot him. The smaller cut his eyes up and caught one of his scathing looks, one which could undoubtedly reduce Hoth's diameter by a few centimeters, and paused, fork poised awkwardly in mid-bite. His hand wavered.

And as for the worthy person who evoked such a response....

"Please, eat," I said, setting down my glass and picking up my own fork. "While there are certain proprieties which are usually maintained in such diplomatic discourses as this, you are my guests. You do not need to wait for me."

A glimmer of amusement darkened my icy blues into cobalt; I turned my attention then to the opener and took a sampling taste.

Not bad. At least for human tastes....

I let a few moments pass that all present could direct their full attentions to what was laid out before them. Then, interjecting into the awkward little space as our servers came to clear off the first of what promised to be more plates than I had envisioned earlier, I spoke.

"And now, my friends, no sense in waiting until coffee."

If I did, this meal would either be a long and dragged out affair, or else one shot through with the speed of a podracer on Tatooine.

"Let us cut to the topic on the minds of all. The resources of the Empire are vast. How may we aid you in your... endeavors?"

"And just what resources do you have which could assist us anyway?"

She let the question hang for a long moment, one which passed in a heavy silence. She didn't bother to see if Phalomir was directing a glare in her direction...

...and suddenly she realized that she didn't care either. After all, she was here for her own reasons...

...reasons which certainly differed from Phalomir's. She was here out of concern for Graysith, and had thought Phalomir would somehow get them out of Imperial hands and to K'eel Doba so that they could get to business. She thought his main concern was for his friend Thoran...

And hadn't he stated as much? Hadn't he voiced his feelings that he didn't know the Sith of this new era, and didn't see any reason to care about them...? So then why the sudden shift in thinking? Why the big alliance with the Empire unless...

...unless he and the Empire shared something in common.

Shayla's greeny-blue eyes darkened, and then shifted to Phalomir. She let the look rest there a long moment then cut her eyes back to Tarnus, finally speaking once more. "I'd like to see what either of you think you can do to conquer the Sith. And let's face it, gentlemen: conquering the Sith...

...not helping them or any of their kind...

...is what this little alliance is all about, is it not?"

"My dear Ms. Petrolu-Kartan!"

I wiped a casual napkin across my mouth, sat back in my chair, cut a meaningful glance around the table and, raising one hand aloft, smiled.

"If the Empire had any desire to 'conquer' these worlds, why you may rest assured we would already have done so. But, as you can see for yourself--"

I paused, now moving the raised hand expansively in a sweeping crescent about me as if to indicate the whole of the universe around us.

"--we have not. Instead, we merely wished to discover who it was who has come to find worlds so recently ahh--" Another pause while I scoured my brain for the correct words. "--injected into the galaxy. You must allow us our curiosity, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan."

I leaned back, still smiling, and rocking back in my chair propped one foot casually upon my knee. My laced hands held me delicately balanced in that position.

"Besides, would I be offerring assistance and charity to you if that were indeed the case? Would it not be a wiser move to just eliminate you here and now, and be done with the possible problem you may present of yourselves at some point in the future?"

I let a corner of my lips quirk up with that, and reached for my brandy. The legs of the chair made a muted clank as I then let them down, and balanced myself squarely upon it, my eyes balanced equally as squarely into the eyes of the suspicious Shayla.

"My dear young lady," I finished, albeit a bit more darkly now. "It would seem that there is a commonality these Sith have with the Empire; it only makes good strategic sense to join together at this time to eliminate the dark threat of which Phalomir has spoken."

I waved offhandedly toward the glowering entity, then took up my brandy once again.

"Yes," she replied, slitting her eyes, "Good strategic sense to join together at this time," she repeated, placing emphasis on the final few words of the statement. "I'm not so stupid as to believe this "alliance" couldn't be broken at any given time. After all.."

She trailed a moment, her gaze turning momentarily vague before it refocused. "After all, alliances have been known to be severed before once they have...

... served their purpose."

Quieting for a moment then, she let her gaze remain steady as all the while memories of the day Aelvedaar had broken the alliance on Prinn'chatka came swimming to the forefront of her mind.

What she would give to go back to those days...

"And besides," Shayla then continued, "How can you begin to stop a dead Dark Lord of the Sith in control of another's body--

--a body which holds a powerful weapon--

--with any of the "vast resources" of which you speak?"

I remained unspeaking, but cut my eyes to Phalomir. Great unspoken meaning passed between us before I turned my gaze back to the blonde young woman who sat there so full of her own convictions.

"My dear Ms. Petrolu-Kartan," I went on after a moment, setting my brandy glass back on the table with a light and musical clink.

"When have you become ambassador to these worlds? To speak of alliances and the possibility of them being broken; have these peoples given you the command to speak for them in this manner? Why, after the Empire has extended the hand of friendship which it has, do you yet balk, and not accept that hand for what it is?

"What is it that drives you to act in this manner, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan? Is it something which would behoove the Sith...

...after being sent away from there...

...to warn the very person who sent me away of an incoming threat?"

At that Shayla trailed, closing her eyes for a moment as something deep within hurt once more. Gaining control of this, she opened them again, her look once more hard...

...but perhaps not entirely unreadable. "And as for my difficulty accepting the Empire's "extended hand of friendship..."

“Holy crap!” he said as the meat fell to his plate.

Shayla turned to regard him, her greeny blues looking more icy than deep.

Phalomir coughed and picked up his mostly untouched brandy. “What makes you think I want to conquer the Sith?” he asked. “I AM Sith. And the problem of which you speak is but one of the items which need to be rectified.”

He turned to a very curious Sorben.

“A very old friend, who has tragically experienced some very extreme mental stress, has vanished with an important artifact. Contrary to what our dear young lady has stated, it is not a weapon, but rather an instrument through which Sith magic may be channeled. I am searching for him before he can accidentally harm himself or others. Only I can tap into the potential of this device, and I will need it in order to pursue other goals.”

Phalomir took a deep breath.

And the waiting room.

His hands clenched into fists as he remembered the red-haired woman. Romanus had already fought with her on too many occasions, with each one ending in his humiliation.

She'll be mine one of these days. No one will be there to help her, no one to save her...

The idea brought another smile to his face, and Romanus briefly forgot about the question placed onto him until A sudden crack from the fire reminded him.

"I knew them from before, and if you hadn't caught me, I would have cut down every single one of them. They've interrupted my business long enough..." he said, his voice filled with malice, wishing for that day to come soon. Yet it passed away as well, and Romanus found himself sitting upon one elbow and brushing some of Graysith's hair from her face.

"Especially when one considers that one of that particular party is my sister. If you think about this, you may see a certain... familial resemblance."

She blinked, and let more time pass. Romanus remained inscrutable before her.

"You may dispense with them as well, at your leisure, my dark one," she purred at length.

"All of them."

Then she rolled onto her back and stretched, sending another smile toward Romanus as she did so.

This involvement was beginning to promise a resolution far, far more interesting than I had originally imagined when I first offerred them our assistance: a dead Dark Lord, a mysterious device within the body of another, an obviously powerfully magickal Sith sorcerer seeking said device for his own... personal agenda....

I remained motionless, considering, and simply continued to stare into Ms. Petrolu-Kartan's furious eyes. That she was fuming inwardly was something blazing forth loud and clear... that, and the manner in which she had so conveniently explained certain matters concerning certain people and strange devices....

Well. You know what they say.

Loose lips sink ships.

All of this roiled round and round in my head, that particular fire given added fuel by the fact that there was some sort of dissention between the foursome we had snagged. The young woman relating one thing, this Phalomir quite another. Which one to believe? Who was telling the truth? Not that these particulars really would matter in the long and the short of it; the Empire would come out on top when push came to shove. Hadn't history already shown us that? For the Sith might be magickal... but their magicks fell before the onslaught of the Dark Side of the Force.

Now I turned my gaze to Phalomir. He sat there doing his utmost to remain calm, politely nibbling on a choice bit of meat. Whether he was enjoying the taste of it was something of which I had no clue... nor did I really care to know at the moment.

What I was suddenly caring about was the strange power my ex's sister had been using... as well as the innuendoes this guy was lathering about right and left concerning the channeling of power via the aforementioned device only he could utilize...?

"You speak of a device through which your abilities may be channeled," I said in opening. I shifted cautiously, knowing full well the dimensions of the ice I was crossing here.

"Not to mention a... personal goal regarding said device."

And fairly in the same breath as the revelation of Sith being lost in their current position.... Perhaps Ms. Petrolu-Kartan was on the right track after all.

Nevertheless, I plunged on, knowing our confrontation with that Power would be the final stepping-stone to any "conquering" of the Sith, whether that conquest be by Sith or Reborn or the confluence of the two.

"As I mentioned, our resources are vast," I said aloud, suddenly switching rontos in midstream. "But there is a..." I hesitated a final time, then plunged on. "...another power lurking on your worlds, Phalomir. A power I do not understand. What I do know of it is that it is incredibly strong, that little can hold against it... that is, at least from what I have seen of it.

"Whether or not this is something held by the populace in general or by a mere few; whether or not this power can ever be withstood or challenged or successfully retaliated against; whether this is something your abilites can overcome, abilities which you claim to be stronger than the ones held by that general populace, as I recall....

"These are questions which must be addressed here, before we go dashing planetward willy-nilly. If anything, so as to determine exactly which of the Empire's vast resources--"

I cut my eyes to Shayla again, then returned them to Phalomir.

"--we must pledge to this effort. So tell me now, my friends:

"What do you either of you know of a power able to allow its wielder to literally transport him or herself from one planet to another, to make planets disappear from their very orbits, to snatch prisoners from Imperial prisons in the very heart of the galaxy, and to command the very demons of hell?

"Shayla," Now I turned my attention to that young woman, who was beginning to look more and more uncomfortable with every word I spoke.

"You hung about with Graysith, you of all people should know at least some of the answers to these questions."

I leaned forward, extremely serious now.

"What is going on in these worlds? Exactly what is the situation we will be getting ourselves into when we not only assist you in finding this device of which you speak, but after its discovery as well?"

Inquiring minds want to know... not to mention minds which so very much desired to remain alive....

Pursing her lips at Sorben's final question, Shayla debated on just what...

...if anything...

...she should divulge concerning that Power.

As little as you possibly can, a small shoulder-being answered. After all, you yourself once held some of that power, albeit not much. Well, perhaps there is something you can divulge then, just to give these guys some prospective...

"Very few of the populace hold the power of which you speak, and learning to wield it effectively takes many, many years," she she said at at last. "It is next to impossible to be challenged or to be retaliated against. Some have managed, I suppose..."

After all, Terrin and Galen managed a time or two...

"...but that takes extreme planning and wit."

...or else it takes gaining an ally who can use the All themselves...

...one way or another, that shoulder-thing piped up again.

Damn...

"In fact--" Shayla then spoke up once more, "The only thing which can truly defeat anyone who has that power is probably another who can also wield it...

...one way or another."

At this, Shayla turned to regard Phalomir, her greeny-blue eyes growing a shade icier as she did so. "I believe my friend here is keenly aware of that, however," Shayla ended quietly...

...but not without a touch of coolness in her words.

Or someone....

"That isn't telling me very much, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan," I stated as I lowered my hand to my brandy glass. I picked it up, swirled it, contemplated the richly reflective liqueur coiling within.

I took a slow drink, then set the glass back with some deliberation. Captured Shayla's eyes with my own.

"What is this power, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan?" I asked, my voice very low, very soft.

Very, very full of meaning.

"And how did the sister of my ex-wife get to command it so easily, since it so obviously is associated with a people who hadn't even been around those 'many years' of which you state, to teach her how to use it?

"Not to mention the fact that she is using it at all! How could this be? The Sith have only recently come into this timeframe; how the hell could she learn to use this and why is she, a human woman, doing so?

"It was given to her, wasn't it?"

I paused a moment before leaning forward, pinning Shayla with a hard look.

She didn't trust these guys, not any of them. She didn't trust them...

...and she certainly didn't want to sit here blabbering about the All and its capabilities and so on. Oh, how she wished she could just get out of here and be with Graysith again, how she wished...

Shayla closed her eyes a moment, struggling with herself at that. For in that moment, something else was also trying to become clear deep within her. She could wish all she wanted...

...but what she had to deal with now was what what was, and not what she wanted. And, after all that she had been through and after restating and showing her loyalties to the Sith over and over...

...she had been sent away, and her memories had even been blocked. But she just couldn't let go...

...not yet. She wasn't ready to face it. So she returned Tarnus's hard look, clamming up somewhat as she replied. "Yes, the power was given to Graysith...

...although others can learn to use it."

Just like you were learning to once, ey Shayla? a little voice snarled in the back of her mind. Before they took it from you entirely, that is...

"Being taught to use it, however, is something very rare...

...something very rare indeed..." she ended with, her look turning vague even as she folded her arms and clammed up entirely.

Graysith was Galen's sister. Galen, to my knowledge, before any of this entire mess had begun, was simply a nice, normal human woman. Thus, I assumed, her sister had to be as well. Neither one of them a natural Force-user of any kind. For, from what I knew of the jedi, the Force ran in families. It had something to do with a natural count of some sort of symbiote, the levels of which were inherited from generation to generation in certain lucky -- or perhaps cursed -- lines. You either had it in you, or you didn't.

Assuming further that Galen's family did not brought me to a starkly obvious conclusion.

If a normal human being could be given this power, learn to use it... think what would happen if a Force-user were given the same opportunity. A Force user of any kind....

My smile broadened fractionally, and once again I picked up my brandy glass. I raised it to her.

"Thank you, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan," I said succinctly before taking another sip. Then I set the glass once more on the table and turned to Phalomir. My smile flickered when I saw the glare upon his face.

I had seen that type of look once before, in the aspect of the feral bantha that had killed my Teacher on Talasea. If Phalomir had looked earlier as if he wanted to take a bite out of Shayla, now he appeared to want to rip her into itty, bitty little pieces.

"And once again, good Sir," I went smoothly on. "What of the Empire's vast resources--" A quick flick of my eyes toward Shayla. "--may I offer to ease the challenge of the quest you find ahead of your group. It appears that we must thank the gods that this strange ability does not exist within everyone; one can only hope that it does so in those who will in turn ally themselves with you-- with us.

But what to do now? Sorben now knew of the All Force, and knew it could be granted to humans. It did not take a genius to figure out what his intentions were if he could learn how this was done. And he admitted to having dark jedi at his disposal. Add to that a family link with the Dark Lady. There was something very foreboding, even sinister, forming in the air around this table.

The weight of this alliance suddenly came bearing down upon Phalomir. He let his eyes wander down to his plate where a few bites of meat lay. He then felt the gentle wind of someone beside him as Panthar turned his head and leaned in.

“Phal,” he whispered, “if I can see right through this, I know you can. Time to decide, buddy, whose side are you on?”

Phalomir looked up at Sorben, eyes slightly wide.

“You command dark jedi?” he asked. “Did your race conquer the dark jedi or are you another incarnation of them?”

He raised his goblet to his lips and paused. “I simply wish to know with who I am dealing. It matters little in the end.”

"Neither."

He had almost forgotten what it felt like, to fall in love. To be bound like that with another. The Dark Lady and Romanus, though. Who would have expected?

But then, they were the only two humans in this temple, so it made some sense. He was surprised with the suddenness that it had happened in, though.

Amusing though it was to peruse the concepts of intimacy, Ragorian soon grew bored and distant. He was always anxious to be weilded again. Whenever he was alone, he was reminded of those thousands of years in solitude. Being alone for that long...

Never again. He would never let it happen again.

The horror. The darkness.

The silence. So complete it made you want to scream, just so you could hear sound.

The stillness. Made you want to tear your skin, just to feel contact again.

If that ever happened to Ragorian again...

He wouldn't be able to take it. He would break. He would snap. His mind would be gone.

That was his greatest weakness. His greatest fear.

Solitude.

Stop whimpering!Ragorian silently berated himself. You sound like a child. It will not happen again. Calm yourself.

Slowly, Ragorian pulled himself out of his dark thoughts, back to conciousness.

Patiently, he waited for the moment when he would be needed again. For the next time Graysith or Romanus' hand would grasp his hilt.

But still, in a dark corner of his mind, a fraction of himself screamed for the silence to end....

She knew it, she had known it all along...

...and Phalomir had simply ignored her. Tarnus's only intent was to destroy what was down there on K'eel Doba and Khar Delba; it was all about commanding and conquering...

Those thoughts shifted and continued accusingly with, And you've now helped him along in his quest...

...not that he will ever achieve just what you KNOW he is thinking, but damn you Shayla. So much for getting the Impys to run like hell from Phalomir. Instead...

As Shayla heard Phalomir's question to Tarnus and Tarnus's reply, she turned her greeny-blues towards Phalomir, the look in her eye clearly reading: I told you so.

Then she cut her eyes to Sorben, the look in her eye hardening once more. "What you plan...

...it won't work; no way in hell will it. And damn my foolishness for even leading you to think of it."

Then, steeling herself, she turned to face a no-doubt furious Phalomir. "We don't need any of the Empire's vast resources. We should get on our way..."

I set the glass back upon the table with a quiet little clink, and once again turned my attention to the fuming young woman. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the smaller Sith sitting there looking as though he wanted to crawl away and hide. But the larger of the two red-skinned beings merely cocked his head the tiniest bit, and seemed to scrutinize me with deep intent.

Our eyes managed to meet. I nodded to him again, then sat up straighter.

"Contrary to whatever you may be so assiduously believing, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan, the Empire is not out to conquer the universe, descending upon it with no other desire than to bring rage and ruin upon it."

My lip curled, and I fairly snorted.

What was it going to take for people to notice? Actar was not Palpatine of old!

My hand fisted and thumped upon the table before I even knew I had performed the act. Sitting to one side, Captain Landarian began rising to his feet; I shot him a commanding look and he reseated himself without a word.

"The Empire wishes nothing more than to bring order into a disorderly system, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan! We have already made some success in this direction, in the manner in which the Hutt underworld is slowly being strangled, and their illegal spice dealings effectively squelched."

Now I did snort.

"Never have we come upon a world with guns ablaze! We do not wish to conquer, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan! Only to... momentarily contain while the wheat is sorted from the chaff. Once all the riff-raff are put to rest, then a democracy will be set up in which the remainder of the people will be able to live out their lives in true prosperity and harmony.

"We have even allowed the jedi, led by your brother, I believe... to rebuild a new Praxeum. Now I ask you: would it be logical for us to allow this, if indeed we had nothing on our collective minds other than 'taking over the universe,' a fear that I read so clearly in your eyes?

"Fear--" I paused, taking another really good look at her. My eyes narrowed then, as I leaned forward and quietly asked her,

"Not fear, but.... Who is it you are really angry with, Ms. Petrolu-Kartan?"

...only suddenly Shayla couldn't find one single thing to argue in return...

...nor could she quite answer the question which he was now directing her way, one which somewhere deep inside an answer was floating. About that time the touch of a soft yet firm hand on one of hers caught her attention.

She shifted her eyes to the left, a war brewing within them as she gripped her fists even tighter and looked to her husband. His returned look was sympathetic, calming...

...yet at the same time something else entirely more stern. She focused her eyes on that look for a long moment, letting those baby browns of his melt away the battle within her...

...that was, as much as it possilby could at the moment. Then, with effort, she unballed her fists and turned back to Tarnus, the look in her eye suddenly resigned...

...and probably more clearly pained than perhaps she was aware. For slowly things were starting to come into focus. "I've been betrayed by the person who was the closest thing to a blood-sister I will ever have...

...and though I really don't think I have enough evidence to determine exactly why this happened..."

“Sorben,” said Phalomir, drawing the attention of the man away from Shayla. “You asked what I would need from you. At this time, I need free passage between the Sith planets. I may be making several trips back and forth between two, possibly three, of the planets. I will need my ship back as well, its speed will suffice for the time being. And I would make a request that the Sith be given a great of amount of respect when we speak to the Empire of ‘falling in line’, the galaxy has changed much since our days of glory. Grant me these small favors now, and I shall deliver much to you in the future in hopes of sealing a long lasting friendship.”

Panthar raised an eyebrow. Phalomir turned his head slightly to him.

"I wouldn't treat your people in any other manner, Phalomir," I said, and with complete sincerity. "Believe me when I say the Empire is not hell-bent on pillage and rape; we are, in our own way, looking forward only to what one might call the Bigger Picture.

"But--"

Now I let a hint of steel come into the tone of my voice, into my eyes.

"Neither will we roll over and play dead should there be any retaliation against us, whether it is due to misperception of our actions or not. We do wield great strength, we do possess vast resources, and we are not afraid to use them."

I paused for breath, now casting a final gaze at those seated with us. In the shadows, the Reborn made inconsequential little noises as they too settled down from the momentary red alert the young woman's words had placed them in.

Abruptly, I reached out a hand to Phalomir, mimicking my earlier gesture.

"I said allies, Phalomir. I meant that in every sense of the word."

For there was something Galen had once told me which made me realize that one day we were going to need all the allies we could get....

“I believe we are well on our way. I cannot speak for the entire Sith race… yet…” Phalomir allowed a small smile to cross his face. “But I assure you, the next time we speak my words will carry even more weight.”

A few more pleasantries were passed, and Phalomir released his hold on Shayla and Erik. The effects lingered to keep them calmed long enough to allow the entire group to exit gracefully.

In the hallway, Panthar whispered to Phalomir.

“You never told me that you couldn’t lie, when did this happen?” he asked quietly.

“It did not,” answered Phalomir, just as quietly.

Panthar flashed a look at Phalomir. “Then what was with that Order of Release stuff then?”

Phalomir smiled and looked straight ahead. “I lied.”

The group reached the room they previously occupied just as the effects of the magick completely wore off of Shayla and Erik, Before either could respond, Phalomir turned to face them.

"General, about all that you said during dinner!" His gray eyes widened in something approaching shock as an instant replay shot mercilessly through his mind.

"The very idea--!"

The Lieutenant General turned slightly toward him, one lip quirking upward as in a rare show of levity he placed one arm about the Captain's shoulders.

"If there is one thing I learned during all my days as a bounty hunter, my dear captain, it is this:

"Keep your friends close... and your enemies, your friends...."

The pair then turned and watched the distant little speck fade away into the vast wonder of space.

"Tighten up on that tractor beam interlacing around both worlds in this system," I commanded, back into my former role once again. "I don't care if it's a speck of micrometeroite dust; nothing is to get down to the surface of either of these two planets without first identifying themselves to us."

As well as trying to explain what in Hell's Seven Circles they would be doing here at all. The civilizations upon these worlds had only just popped back into existence, after all. Who would have good enough reason to be snooping around here unless they were somehow already mixed up into this mess?

And The Empire, after all, was still in the process of sorting out the wheat from the chaff.

The Captain nodded his head, and turned about to give the command when I stopped him. He paused, cocking his head over his shoulder toward me, and then turned to fully face me.

"I trust we have established some sort of communications link with that Sith ship?" I asked, already knowing the answer before his affirmative reply confirmed it.

"Good."

I paused once more, letting recent events roll through my head, thinking what and where the Empire should go with all of this. The parameters suddenly seemed to be expanding to the horizon of the universe itself....

"Then when they should either leave or approach these worlds, our friends will have means to contact us regarding the removal of a particular tractor beam," I went on, knowing Landarian already knew this, just to cement in my mind the fact that nothing made of metal could slip through those beams without being snagged like a fly in the web of a spider.

I nodded, then leaned in close to the Captain of the immense SSD.

"When they request permission, relay it to my personal comm. I have a certain request I wish to make of them; see that this happens, Captain."

Captain Landarian nodded his head smartly, then saluted. I returned the proprietary gesture, then departed for my quarters in order to get a little shut-eye before things started really hopping around these formerly unknown little worlds.

“Shayla,” he said quietly. “Perhaps you should communicate to the ship and ask for the blockade to be opened for our passage when we reach K’eel Doba. I am certain the Dark Lady is expecting us shortly.”

This seemed to spark some life into Shayla. She spun around to face Phalomir.

--for who else could it have been--?

--had done to her wore of Shayla the instant she heard his casual instructions. She whirled, fire ablaze in her eyes.

"What did you do to me back there?!" she growled, her eyes only breaking from Phalomir to regard her still overly-calm husband. "And just why did you feel it was necessary to do the same to my husband!?"

At this she fell silent for an indeterminable length of time, the anger in her eyes only dissipating slightly as she then finished with: "And just how do you know the Dark Lady is expecting us at all?"

“Shayla,” he said, “what I did was remove us from that situation without digging ourselves in too much deeper than we already were. I am an inherent user of Sith magick, the bloodline of the Sorcerers runs through me. I see little point in arguing now, for I would use my abilities again if necessary. Erik should no longer be under my influence, perhaps he was in dire need of rest?”

Visions of Jharmeen flashed suddenly in his mind, and he felt a strange urgency. He saw her violet eyes beckoning, her slender body standing defiantly yet invitingly before him, her arms raising to him, her—

He shook the thoughts from his mind.

“Let us assess our situation. The empire knows of the All Force, and knows that somehow the knowledge of it can be given to a human. The empire harbors dark jedi, the race which conquered the Sith, albeit through deception as much as force. The Sith appear out of nowhere to occupy once empty worlds, and pose a possible threat to the empire.”

He leaned forward in his seat. He could almost feel the gentle touch of Jharmeen’s hand on his shoulder as she stood behind him and bent to whisper to him—

He blinked and refocused upon Shayla, who had now been joined by Panthar in listening.

“Sorben wants the All Force, that should be obvious to all of us. What is also obvious is that he cannot be allowed to possess it. What he does not know is the ability of the Eye to keep the All Force in check, an ability which I must confess I now possess apart from the Eye. However, the Eye has been stolen, and it is only a matter of time before Thoran tries to depart Khar Delba, and falls into the hands of the empire. If Sorben learns of the Eye, then matters are greatly complicated.”

Phalomir leaned back again. Jharmeen’s voice drifted quietly to his ear, the beginnings of a whisper. He cleared his throat.

“What I intend to do is speak to the Dark Lady of these matters. If I survive this meeting, then perhaps the Sith can be saved.”

He regarded Shayla for a moment longer.

"This is Shayla Petrolu-Kartan and companions requesting clearance through the K'eel Doban blockade," she said simply. Then, leaving the channel open, she turned once more to Phalomir, folding her arms against her chest.

"Sorben would require the assistance of a Sith Sorceror...

...possibly one Sith Sorceror in particular...

...in order to give anyone ability to use the All Force. All other methods for gaining use of this either require inheriting it from birth...

...or learning to use it over time from a skilled All user. And you know as well as I do that those things take a great length of time."

For a long moment then she trailed, her eyes growing vague. Then her thoughts spun to something entirely different. "How might Roan...

...or anyone else for that matter...

...utilize the Eye if you are the only one who can, whether you have it with you or not?"

“One thing you should learn,” he said, “is that in negotiations with someone I do not trust – such as the empire – I do not always say exactly what I mean. I do not know if I am the only one who can use the Eye. I do know that the power of the Eye resides within me, but it may still reside in the Eye itself, and Thoran may find a way to tap into it. After all, he had 4500 years to become acquainted with it.”

His expression grew gloomy.

“As for Roan, I am not convinced it is he who has possessed the Eye and led Thoran down dark paths. I was visited by my father’s spirit again recently, he told me something of Thoran’s plan. After speaking with the Dark Lady I must visit the planet of the Armorers.”

He brightened slightly.

“But soon we will know who plays what part in this mystery. And we shall know who we may trust, and who we should disdain.”

Good, I thought to myself as I reached to open my end of the link. Now is the time to build up a feeling that the Empire can be trusted, that I can be taken at my word, although never once had I made any promises to them about emplacing spy equipment aboard that odd little ship….

“Lieutenant General Tarnus here,” I said crisply, pausing a moment before continuing. “I have a request of Phalomir; it is… personal.”

I backed off quickly then, and sent the highly encrypted signal squirting across the ether. A few moments ensued, and finally the Sith’s deep voice came crackling into my ready room in inquiry, equally as polite.

I pursed my lips as I made a final consideration… and then went ahead.

“Phalomir, I will be blunt. I have a daughter who has been taken from me; from what knowledge I have… obtained, I have reason to believe that her disappearance may have some connection with your worlds.

“In demonstration of your faith in the Empire, a pledge, if you will, of furthering the establishment of friendly relations between us, I ask of you that you find my daughter. She is only a baby—“

I broke off suddenly with that, momentarily unable to continue. When I had regained my composure I continued.

“She has flaming red hair, and blue eyes. I believe she had been taken by one who commands that power of which we have spoken.”

Once again I stopped, working my jaw a bit as I thought of what else to say. Came to the sudden realization that there wasn’t anything further to add.

“This is Tarnus, out.”

I flipped the switch to send the communication, and followed that by squirting the release codes to the flagship haunting K’eel Doba. I then sat back, knowing that the Sith ship would find passage down onto the planet I had last seen full of snarling demons, from which I had fled with my daughter and the mother of my child.

"You haven't told me yet why it is that you came here to K'eel Doba, Romanus," Graysith whispered at length and then fell silent, still playing about with her idle tracings upon him. She dropped her gaze to the Claw-tipped finger with which she was doing so, studied it as though she had never before seen it, warmed by the rich reflection of many things which was sheened there upon its metallic surface.

"I--" she started to continue, then stopped.

Something struck her, something strange, more than a vagary, less than a premonition.

An image of brilliant emerald eyes coming close; warmth radiating from the close proximity of red-hued flesh; the sense of curling horns bearing down upon her....

Recinis?

She frowned, shook her head, clearing her mind of the disturbing mental scene. Then forcing a somewhat shaken smile upon her face, she focused fully upon Romanus once again, waiting.

It took her a few moments more to realize that she had reflexively sunk the tip of the Claw a full half-centimeter into the expanse of his chest....

"Enter," I said, knowing there would be only one person bold enough to come to my personal quarters. Thus I did not bother to reach for a lick of my armor; I merely sat where I was and watched the door open to reveal Captain Lanndarian. He came in and stopped mere feet from where I still sat, the salute he executed looking somewhat ludicrous for the fact that he too had apparently been getting ready for some shuteye; salutes are meant to go with uniforms, not mufti. My lip quirked just the slightest as I returned the gesture; what a pair we probably made to whatever little mousie might be watching.

Then all thought of humor dissipated as he came right to his point.

"Sir," he began. "We have received an incoming transmission from Ord Mantell; clearly it is meant for you. I have it here."

He held out a chip and stood in silence.

I sighed again, and took the chip. For a moment we were connected by twin holds on that chip; our eyes met above it. Something screamed forth from his eyes; clearly he had already heard this message.

"Thank you, Captain," I said, then rose from my bunk and went to a private comm board. I inserted the chip and just stood there while it played; then I played it once again.

"This is Eagle Enterprises employee Jasyn Lancaster, requesting special clearance from the blockade which the Empire has established near the planet K'eel Doba. My team has already been stopped by this said blockade after searching on K'eel Doba for a friend of ours who has gone missing after being there. At the time we reached the conclusion she was not there any longer; however, after evaluating further evidence we believe it is still entirely possible that she is on that planet. Thus I am requesting permission to be allowed through the blockade, and would be willing to discuss payment for that privelege upon your reply. You may direct your reply to my personal comm frequency, and I will be willing to then discuss this matter with you further if necessary...."

I jerked my gaze back to Landarian, but didn't yet speak. My mind was too full for the words to find their way to my mouth.

So that's where the minx disappeared to....

For who else would this particular "she" possibly be but my dear ex-wife? Who else would have connections with both Eagle Enterprises and a Sith world thought by the population in general to be not only void of life, but flat-out rumor to boot?

I smiled slowly.

"See that they are given escort into K'eel Doban space," I ordered succinctly. "See to it as well that their ship does not disappear from us during their visit on this world. I want tabs on it at all times... especially when they depart the planet."

Landarian gave a crisp nod, another salute, whirled and left to carry out my orders. When I was certain he was gone, I opened an extremely private and highly encrypted channel to the hunter I had sent out to look for my daughter. I knew from the general flight plans he had left us that he was starting with these worlds; maybe he could kill two womprats with one stone while he was here.

"Romanus," I said. "Lt. General Tarnus here. There has been an... addendum to the Empire's-- that is, to my personal request of you. I have sent you out looking for my daughter, and have aimed you in this direction to begin. Not only do I strongly feel that she is somewhere in this system, but new information brought to me leads me to believe her mother is here as well.

"I would like you to find her, Romanus; I am sending you an image of her--" My fingers scrambled about, inserting a digitized image of myself with Galen on the day of our brief marriage. "--that you know what she looks like.

"The promisary fee will be doubled for her apprehension; there are others who will be arriving on K'eel Doba searching for her as well, so stay sharp. Should these others cross your path or in any manner try to prevent you from carrying out this small request, well...."

I let my words trail off into ominous silence then, the meaning clear as crystal. Then after sending a quick explanation of who would be the most likely to be accompanying Mr. Lancaster on his quest, I sent off the signal and closed up shop.

“This is not a clandestine mission,” said Phalomir. “Perhaps we should relay a message to the surface to announce our arrival.”

Shayla turned and gave Phalomir a look as if to say “You do it”, and without removing her gaze she flipped the com button.

Phalomir cleared his throat and spoke.

“This is shuttle – Truth Seeker – requesting permission to land at Ch'arlingua. We have important information which must be conveyed to the Dark Lady herself.”

With a short, decisive movement she yanked those draperies closed, shrouding the room once more in darkness. Then she turned back to where Romanus yet lay in silence, looking up at her. She smiled, flicking a finger minutely to snatch molecules from the air and the wood of the mantle, to reassemble into yet more wood for their fire. That quiet smile still planted on her face, she approached Romanus, who was now laying on a dense rug made of some thick animal fur, a rug she had likewise created for their comfort.

She came to a stop, directing that smile down to him, and was in the act of sinking to her knees when there came a genteel knock on her door. Her smile evaporated as quickly as the gaze she shot to that door; a moment later, and the knock came again.

She flicked her gaze back to Romanus, who was rising and regaining his accoutrements. When he was fully composed, she nodded first to him, and then to the door.

It oiled smoothly open to reveal Salandaar framed therein.

He flicked his aquamarine eyes to Romanus and then settled a steady look upon the Chosen Daughter. Bowing, he then spoke.

"Milady, there are those approaching who claim to have information which they can impart only to your ears. Shall we allow them permission to land in Ch'arlingua?

"The ship they travel in is Sith, but of older origins."

He remained half-bent, his fisted hand laid across the opposing shoulder, and waited.

A frown curled across Graysith's features. She knew immediately the probability of just who it was making such a polite and unforeseen request.

It could only be one of two possibilities... for who would have had access to a ship of the Sith? And even so, if it was an older model....

For a moment her mind drifted back to that strange premonition she had felt so recently. She cut a hard look to Romanus, who nodded his head to her, crossed the room, and took up the Blade in his hand once again. The shining metal made a promising hiss as he slid it into a sheath he had managed somehow to obtain for it; when he straightened again, she nodded in turn, and then turned to Salandaar.

"Allow them to land," she said succinctly. "See they are met with an honor guard of our best warriors.

"And see to it that they find their way into the Receiving Room, Salandaar. Hopefully without any weapons they will have brought with them, for in coming to parley is it not good diplomacy to turn such over into our hands? As a gesture of goodwill, of course."

She nodded to the tall and loyal warrior, and watched as he whirled to carry out her order. Then she moved to the adjoining bath, to cleanse and garb herself in a manner befitting her station as Dark Lady of the Warrior Clan of the Sith.

“See?” he said. “A little politeness can go a long way. We shall be met with honor.”

Shayla sniffed as Phalmir turned to regard Panthar.

“Remember, you are Thoran. You are my squire, and have been since we were children. You have attended to my needs and must continue to do so. Worry not, we shall reveal the truth when the time is right.”

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

Phalomir walked out of the hatchway and met the captain of the Honor Guard. Anticipating, he held his hands over his head and turned, allowing himself to be searched for weapons. The guards obliged and found nothing, for there was nothing to be found.

Phalomir waited while each member of the group was in turn greeted and searched. He stood proudly, watching the smartly dressed Honor Guard members conduct their business. He locked eyes with one particularly large warrior, equaling his own size and stature. Phalomir nodded, the other Sith only raised an eyebrow very slightly.

The captain approached Phalomir and stood before him, a gruff expression covering his face. Phalomir bowed his head slightly and raised his eyes to the warrior, who looked familiar. Phalomir suddenly recognized the warrior as the guard who seemed to personally attend to the Dark Lady the last time the group was here.

They were led from the space port to the Temple. No words were exchanged, the silence went unbroken.

Phalomir concentrated on the sights surrounding them as they walked, taking in the splendor and beauty of the Sith city. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of the Dark Lady’s face in the crowds of people, only to blink and see that it was not her at all.

The group eventually arrived at the Temple and were led into the receiving hall. The few Sith they met in the halls stood the side and watched in curiosity. Phalomir smiled as they entered the great hall and looked around for the Dark Lady. Her absence brought an unexpected feeling of disappointment and anxiety, which he quickly beat back.

The guard retreated to the back of the room, while the captain approached Phalomir.

“Be seated,” he said. “The Dark Lady will see to you shortly.”

Her red thrimm took its customary place about her slim waist, the Tooth of S'slan hanging from it in silent meaning. A lacy white veil of sorts covered her tresses, adorned with crystals of iced blue and lavender and fiery red and the most brilliant of diamond-white; intricately knotted pieces hung artistically about her face and down her back, dripping with refracted light.

She smiled, glorying for a moment in a woman's vanity... then pushed that aside altogether.

That she looked regal was enough; that the ensemble enhanced her skin tone and her eyes and her hair was mere icing on the cake.

She exited her rooms, and quickly made her way to the Receiving Room; whether or not Romanus trailed in her wake or walked beside her or even attended her at all was something other which she put aside as well. Pushed into that portion of her which was Jharmeen, there to wait until needed again.

The doors to the Receiving Hall flew open as she approached and glided smoothly within. She brushed past the Sith-flanked foursome without even looking, although she knew well enough who was there.

Coming to the dias, she mounted the stairs, and soon gained the Seat of the Dark Lady atop it. There she turned smoothly about... but remained standing, looking down upon them in silence, watching them each in turn as they rose quickly to their feet.

Erik: bristling with anger and distrust; Shayla, her eyes full of pain and defiance and hope; a smaller Sith, whose very being was blasting forth emotions ranging from trepidation to outright fear...

And the taller, the emerald-eyed one, the one who must be Phalomir....

She pinned her gaze into his eyes, ignoring her suddenly pounding blood. She sat down upon the throne, regarded him closely.

The atmosphere was positively electric.

"You have returned, contrary to my wishes," she said at length.

He stopped his thoughts, abruptly crushing the strange ideas forming in his mind. What trickery was this? He felt nothing for the lady except trepidation, mistrust, and passion? Love? – No!

He stared directly into her violet eyes.

“My lady, I realize our previous meetings have been on less than jovial terms. I sincerely hope to make amends for that in the future. We have discovered information which I feel is of vital import to the Sith and we have come to discuss serious matters with you, my lady.”

Her gaze remained unaltered.

“And—“ he started.

And what? And I have come to take you away with me? I have come to be your slave? I have come to vow to – ARGH! Well, you started to say something, finish it!

“I have come to negotiate for my rightful position as Dark Lord…”

The Dark Lady’s eyes widened slightly in anticipation.

“…of the Warriors,” Phalomir finished.

It was all she could do to remain seated, to keep a calm demeanor. Every atom within her was screeching LIAR as loudly and heatedly as possible; her mind whirled with images of Roan and Recinis and....

She froze further.

One Son to lead them....

Her roiling state was displayed only in the manner in which she gripped the carved arms of the Seat, the Claw-bearing finger beginning now to tap upon a customary spot. Indeed, a small hole awaited its tip there, as if one other had once sat in this very throne, tapping away in apparent contemplation while such conflict screamed within her as well....

She squeezed the arms further. Her brows lowered as did her gaze, flicking now to Phalomir's wrists.

One bare of ornamentation or decoration; one bearing an intricately designed tattoo, laid there in anticipatory black, having yet to gleam the brilliant gold of appropriation. Of true entitlement achieved.

But it was there. And for which Clan--?

She straightened, tilting her head a bit to one side as her eyes lifted once more into his.

"This is impossible, my dear... guest," she said smoothly.

"For the Dark Lord Roan is dead, and he had no living relative other than his--" She paused again, her eyes darkening as fond memories rose up within her. "--dearly departed wife.

"He left no heirs other than a daughter, and only those bound by blood or marriage may make Claim to Entitlement."

She sat back upon the throne, smiling like the rancor who has gotten the ronto.

“Thank you, my lady, I understand the requirements of entitlement. However, I believe circumstances call for at least a dialogue on this subject, and I would welcome your opinion at a time when other matters are not so urgent.”

Phalomir paused, keeping a level gaze with the violet eyes of the Dark Lady. Eyes which echo the light of a thousand suns, not one so bright as to outshine her beauty. She stands at the center of the galaxy, her brilliance feeding life to the spiraling myriad –

Phalomir again cut off his thoughts, not understanding from where they emanated. This time, however, something lingered. He tried to follow it before it faded, reaching inward for a split second and grasping something familiar… a thread… leading to a doorway in his mind, a doorway which once was barred with a multitude of locks and braces, but now stood ajar with soft light filtering around the edges.

He brought himself back to the moment and his eyes grew slightly wider. He quickly composed himself.

“But there are definitely more pressing matters at the moment – matters which concern the safety of the entire Sith race– and of its Dark Lady.”

He bowed his head slightly on the last few words.

She slid her gaze smoothly back to Phalomir.

"So you proclaim yet again, dear guest," she said silkily, then let her lids drop for a moment. When she opened her eyes again they were very large in her face, very dark.

"You may now proceed to disclose this information which will or will not prove to be such a great threat; whether to me or to the Sith yet remains to be seen.

"If, that is--" She settled a bit on the Seat, picking an imaginary bit of lint from her skirt. The crystals in her headdress made low musical chimes as she made these small movements in front of them.

"That is, if they prove to have any meaning at all," she finished, letting her eyes affix themselves into Phalomir's brilliant pair, and remain there.

He let his eyes refocus on the Dark Lady.

“I have experienced much since our last encounter. An encounter which I regret was not as productive nor – fulfilling – as it should have been. As you can see, I have regained my body. However, the Eye of R’lous remains within the body of Panthar Dantares. What is more, I believe Panthar to be controlled by another entity – one older and with more plans for conquest than either you or I, my lady.”

Phalomir smiled slightly at that.

“Please understand, I love the Sith. I am Sith. My brethren must have seen much in you to bestow you with such an honor, and despite my – apprehension – towards non-Sith races, I am not one to challenge that honor. To our race, you are Sith.”

His expression grew darker.

“However, you are one of the few who possess the knowledge of a power more incredible than any other. This power was thought to be the salvation of the Sith, but it has great potential to be our downfall. I believe it was the primary factor in the original fall of the race, which was prevented from occurring. But I believe it will prove to be cause for concern yet again.”

Phalomir drew a deep breath.

"I know Tarnus," she stated briefly, then paused. Memories of years of on and off again entanglements with that bounty hunter flashed across her mind, ending with their most recent encounter when all were present in uneasy truce beneath this very roof now soaring above their heads.

Slowly she brought the Claw up, and began toying with it in what appeared to be an absentminded manner. In reality it was anything but; her mind raced with the implications Phalomir's words carried.

And a particular few she found to be most...

Interesting.

She took a slight, ladylike breath and lowered the Claw.

"You seem to know much of the power I possess... considering it never was fully manifested in the understanding of the Sith until 500 years after your time."

Now she blinked, long and dangerously.

"Tell me how you have come to know of this, and how it led to the fall of the Sith. I find this latter statement something of a contradiction to what history has taught me to have happened."

She paused again, albeit now with a bit of discomfort rising hot in her blood. For as Jharmeen Jhin'Darr she had no inkling that the Sith were anything but an ancient race her father so passionately studied...

...until she was taught of them by her Sire Aelvedaar, the Dark Lord of the Sorcerers.

“Events are chronicled by the victors of any given conflict, my lady. I will tell you the history I was taught, and you may judge for yourself. In the days before my father’s murder – or should I say, assassination – his lifelong work had been the discovery and harnessing of the power known as the All Force. He was approached by certain high ranking members of the Sith to divulge the secrets of his work, apparently to be used as a bargaining chip in relations with a race of dark warriors. He refused, and hid himself away. During this time he attempted to erase his work and built a device to ensure there be way to control the All Force should someone discover this knowledge.”

Phalomir paused, then began again.

“He was killed by assassins sent from the Warrior Clan. This was done 500 years before the time of the their birth,” he said, indicating the guards behind him. “I harbor no ill will to those present.”

“However, it appears someone did discover the knowledge of the All Force. It is unclear to me exactly who it was, but I fear it has something to do with the entity currently in possession of the Eye.”

“My lady, think of it. An unknown entity which has knowledge, if not mastery, of the All Force is free upon Sith worlds. Not only that, it has possession of the Eye, which is able to counter the All Force. The Empire knows of the All Force as well, and I have learned that Sorben knows the All Force can be given – or taught – to a human. He obviously wishes to possess the All Force for the Empire, and if he knew of the Eye’s abilities then that too would become a target for the Empire in their plans to conquer the newly resettled Sith. And should he discover this other entity and perhaps in it find an ally…”

Phalomir let his sentence trail. He watch the Dark Lady closely, marveling at each breath she drew. Such beauty, such grace, such—

Such a wonder at was causing these thoughts!

“Is this entity Thoran?” he asked, too loudly. “Or do you mean he is being controlled by it?”

And to the human female who once went by the name of Jharmeen Jhin'Darr, the sound was a very portent of doom...

Ask not toward whom the Beast snarls. It snarls at thee.

...for she suddenly found herself struggling, floundering, completely at a loss. The very interstices of space and time formed into an intricate carpet which, with one quick and savage jerk, had been yanked out from beneath her feet.

A Dark One with the power of the All... the power given to her, the power she relied entirely too much upon.... True, she had the Claw with which to act aggressively, bypassing the natural set of checks and balances a user must maintain...

But this Dark One had the capability of channeling, muffling it, controlling the one who controlled the All.

Stalemate... she suddenly so desperately hoped.

It could not be checkmate, she would not allow that, that would be unthinkable, intolerable....

She rose abruptly to her feet, marvelling inwardly at how quickly she was leaning toward accepting the words this Sith was speaking as truth. For well she remembered that flash of red glaring from the body of the human his spirit had once inhabited.

Indeed, the Dark One of which this man speaks could very well be none other than himself. Where else to best hide but beneath the very nose of your enemies???

Words are empty when merely spoken, after all.

She stood there, her eyes widening a fraction, and stared down at the little party. A sudden snap of her fingers, and her warriors ringed the foursome, spears at their throats, threatening.

"Kill them," she ordered, and fell silent, her eyes all the while remaining pinned into Phalomir's green ones.

The spears which were pointed at the group all instantly melted into dust. The warriors which held them in turn were stuck back several feet as if swept by an unseen hand.

Phalomir stood and held up a hand.

“My lady,” he called out quickly, spinning to face each of the advancing warriors who sped to take the place of those who were now struggling to regain their feet. “What folly do you call forth? I bring you news and an offer of assistance, you respond with violence?”

He turned to face her alone.

“I am the son of a sorcerer, a Dark Lord nonetheless. I have use of Sith magick, my lady, and know also that the power of the Eye resides within me, even though the Eye itself does not. What I speak is the truth. My loyalty to the race is unyielding.”

He dropped his hand.

“Perhaps it was too soon to be speaking with the Dark Lady. Should I have asked for Graysith? Or perhaps Jharmeen? Which of you would be more receptive?”

"You lie," she said simply, remembering all too clearly the strange words this one had once spoken to her in the darkened corridors of the temple. Words of always having known her, having loved her....

What trickery that!

She lifted her chin higher, trembling in an admixture of anger and fear and dismay, once more recalling the flaming bolt striking her into unconsciousness, a bolt she felt with every inch of her being to have been initiated by this one, this clever ruse, this son of a sorcerer, Phalomir.

"I do not believe the words you speak. You come once again under pretense of friendship, in warning to me, to the Sith... yet you harbor within you a darkness that belies your words. Both of you do! For you both have proclaimed friendship, yet neither of you offer the trust to act as foundation to that offerring."

Now she turned blazing eyes upon Shayla, recalling a time she once ordered her to perform a similar act, remembering how she had responded.

A sudden coalescence of memory and reality: how well she remembered the time she had dropped to her knees before Wicked, offering her very death, recalled his reaction, the triggering which ensued....

She raised the hand and aimed the Claw squarely between Phalomir's green eyes.

"If this be the last order I give, if in the giving this is the last action I perform, then so be it!"

From the shadows, a twin movement caught her peripheral vision.

Salandaar and Romanus.

She ignored them.

"Depart and take your foul words with you. I desire to see you never again!"

She drew in a deep breath in preparation....

Trust?

Had Phalomir ever trusted anyone? Yes, he had trusted Thoran with his life, and he had been duped. He trusted the Sith clans, and they had betrayed his father. Did he trust anyone now? Did he even trust himself? His own feelings? Feelings which lately had all been focused upon...

her...

But why?

The link they shared, which once was guarded by a beast, now lay open. Was this trust? The strange memories he experienced once in her presence, the memories of events that had not taken place... could he trust in those?

What choice did he have?

He let his body go slack. His face relaxed, and his emerald eyes gave a look of resignation.

"If this is your decision, my lady, I shall trust in it."

Of what she did not know.

Inside, the Beast threw back its head, razing its claws within her psyche, rending and tearing and howling. In that wildness it released something it had been zealously guarding, a tiny mote of glittering....

Something.

The Dark Lady remained where she was, utterly ignoring everything about her save for a pair of green eyes which suddenly closed in resignation, yet strangely enough seemed to grow larger and larger and larger, until they dominated the entire universe.

Is this what trust is? he thought.

He stepped through the door. The light surrounded him, warmed him. He continued walking blindly through the light, trusting. The light slowly dissipated and he found himself in a large chamber of sorts. A feeling of extreme warmth surrounded him, and Jharmeen stepped out of the darkness.

Outside, in the grand Hall, Phalomir’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Had she given Graysith her trust, truly?

As those memories continued to play, only one bespoke of anything other than trust, that being the fateful day when her memories had been blocked by the very one she even still believed in, and loved.

For hadn't she returned time and time again, to warn, to assist, to offer everything she had to help Jharmeen JhinDar Qu'taro?

And yet she was being damned for one single act, for the inability to turn on the one other single person in the Universe she truly loved. And Shayla was about to point this very fact out aloud, oblivious to the words being tossed back and forth by Phalomir and Graysith, when the most blinding light blazed forth from the Glyph upon Graysith's forehead. It showered the group in a warm yet harsh golden glow, and Shayla tried to shield her eyes with her arm, falling to her own knees in near-blindness.

In that moment the blinding golden light of the Glyph turned into a vision of sorts; one of a little girl at the Jedi Praxeum who was skipping the daily activities; a little girl whom Shayla knew quite well, for it was herself. Curious, she had wandered off to where the Temple of Exar Kun once stood, trying to get away from the the students and teachers of the Praxeum as well. Letting her long dark blonde hair cascade freely from her head, she raised her eyes to the sun, dreaming to go there and beyond and far away from that Hell which she was living, losing herself in the splendor of the skies. Yet there was something there in that memory which Shayla never quite remembered from that day so long ago until now. For there, in the light of the sun, shown the apparition of a large figure with horns atop its head, all other features indistinct...

...yet, if she looked closely enough...

...it seemed as if that figure was motioning a hand, beckoning her to follow...

Out of the corner of his eye he saw many of the Sith warriors who still had spears running towards the group, while the big captain hurried to the lady. He also managed to catch a glimpse of a large bald human-looking man near the door smiling and leaning on the wall.

He hurried to Phalomir, fell to his knees to check that Phalomir was still breathing, and then looked back to see three Sith warriors headed towards him with spears readied. He jumped again to his feet and prepared to face the warriors. He saw behind the oncoming warriors that some others had already taken Erik to the floor and were busy subduing him, while two others were pointing spears at Shayla and wondering at her blank expression.

Panthar searched for possibilities. He threw his hands up in front of him, palms outward, and paused.

“Um….” he thought.

The Sith warriors drew nearer.

“What’s that, Phalomir?” he called out. “You want me to fry them? All of them? No, only the ones who attack us? Alright, sir, but you remember the last time I tried this and ended up bringing the roof down!”

Salandaar's eyes narrowed then, and he snorted. He didn't know what the strange Sith was up to, but it certainly boded no good. Time for action before whatever magickal arts he was calling upon came into play.

He leapt to his feet and was down from the dias in a single bound, landing squarely in front of the gesturing Panthar. For a split moment the smaller Sith's eyes widened in startlement as Salandaar burst into his territorial space; then they rolled back into his head as the hilt of the warrior captain's spear came crashing down upon his head. He wavered on his feet, then crashed to the floor to lie there motionless.

Salandaar whirled then, taking stock of the situation. The challenger Sith was still out; with a nod he indicated that some of his men take him likewise to the dining room. They obeyed, carrying Phalomir off as they had the Dark Lady, albeit not quite as gently. Another nod, and several more hauled the by now fully bound Erik off unceremoniously after the others.

Salandaar whirled to where three warriors now encircled the blank-faced human female, their looks stern and all business, their demeanor the epitome of wariness.

What strangeness this? Did the brilliance of the Lady addle this one's feeble mind?

Salandaar barked out a quick command, and the Sith backed off a fraction. Then he himself strode forward, grasped Shayla roughly by the arm, and hauled her away with him. Her feet scrabbled and scraped against the stone floor, but he paid this little heed.

All he knew was that he was in charge until the Lady's awakening... and every atom within him was screaming that he keep these strangers safely corralled together until plans could be made as to now what to do with them.

Why was the Force leading her to remember something like this now? And just what was it she was remembering anyway?

For it was rather evident to her that the figure shining in the light was a Sith...

...she knew it for the powerful horns atop its head alone. But a Sith, in her childhood? Impossible...

...or was it?

Lady Stargazer, do you not remember your Thoran?

But then the jolt of Erik's cries towards her, both verbally and through the link they yet shared in the Force, finally slammed home and jerked Shayla to the reality of the moment. Shayla's greeny-blue eyes snapped alert.

"Erik!" she cried, trying her damnedest to dig in her heels and stop the Sith from dragging her wherever he might to no avail. Then she continued, this time towards the Sith, "Stop this, for we have done nothing...

...NOTHING!...

...to you or your Dark Lady! I could never bear anyone bringing harm to her..."

Whether the Sith heard Shayla or not, or even heeded her words, yet remained to be seen...

"My lady--" the higher ranking of them began, but she ignored him. Instead, she rose swiftly to her feet, glancing about hurriedly, as if searching for something.

She found it in the form of the yet unconscious Phalomir, who lay rudely upon the cold floor, ringed by growling warriors.

"Harm him not!" she cried out in spite of herself, now hurrying to his side. Brushing away the astonished guards, she fell to her knees and, placing cool hands upon his face let forth with her talents to bring him back into wakefulness.

"I do not know what has happened," she continued in a near whisper, never moving her eyes from him.

"I only know that I have been directed to... to trust this one...."

She quieted then, shivering as she paused for a single moment of precious reflection, one which struck with the onslaught of a hurricane's tidal surge, more than enough to sweep away whatever personal agenda she may have developed on Dagobah.

Well she knew the larger of the Sith she had seen in the vision sent to her, to him, to them. How could she not recognize that particular set of sweeping horns?

How suddenly she felt that, All strength or no, she was suddenly riding a roller coaster which had no brake, one which hurtled upon a particular, predestined track. She was not the only one with the All, nor the only one with a device to enthrall it....

Forcing this unsettling revelation away for later perusal, she then returned to her ministrations, sending cooling tendrils of herself carefully along the link she had maintained with Phalomir, probing softly but persistently into the curling corridors of his mind, seeking revival, self-awareness, expansion out from the darkness. He was just beginning to shift beneath her touch, a deep groan rumbling out from his broad chest, when sounds of resistance came wafting to her ears.

She slid her eyes to the side in time to see Salandaar hauling Shayla into the room. The young woman was fighting for all she was worth, digging her heels in and clawing at the warrior's muscled arms. To no avail; not only were the Sith a magickal race, they were a strong one.

Various emotions fought a brief and heated battle within her. At length--

"Release her as well, and the other human," she ordered succinctly. The tone of her voice belied the inherent authority in those words, somehow reducing them from a command to a request. Salandaar blinked a bit in surprise at this sudden change, then did as he was told. His hands opened, and the struggling Shayla found herself staggering to her knees.

Off to the side, the warriors ringing the bound Erik backed off as well. Graysith shot a look into Shayla's eyes, and then nodded toward Erik.

"Do not forget the... squire," she said then, now turning back to the stirring Phalomir and once again laying cool hands alongside his face.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said softly, sitting up slowly. “I believe we may have much to talk about. I— I am unsure where to begin, except in asking if what I just experienced was real…”

Phalomir’s eyes darted briefly as he realized his surroundings had changed from the great hall. His face showed a sudden look of concern as he refocused on the lady.

Voices echoed in his ears, and he realized he was lying on a cold stone floor. He tried to stand and ended up stumbling forward into a large Sith warrior. Panthar braced himself for another smack to the head, but the warrior instead helped Panthar to stand.

“That’s right,” he mumbled, pointing at the Sith. “Zap, I’ll getcha. Think I look bad, you shoulda seen the other guy…”

What was this strange turn of events? And what had spurred it on?

For a long moment she sat on her knees in quiet wonder, then she turned her head as Panthar got to his feet in a strange display, then after a few moments fell to the floor unconscious.

"I can help him--" she stated towards one of the powerful Sith warriors even as she got to her feet, starting to take a step out towards him. But she paused in mid-motion upon hearing Phalomir's final query to Graysith, the rest of reality finally slamming home.

That blinding light which had triggered her strange vision. It had come from...

She directed a greeny-blue gaze back to Graysith; one filled with concern and perhaps something else entirely.

"Have you been injured?" she echoed very quietly, something deep within her almost literally screaming to reach out and assist. Unconsciously she then took a step forward, reaching her right hand out slightly. "I can help you..."

...if you will let me, came the final errant thought.

"I am quite unharmed," she said at length, first sitting back on her heels and then rising to her feet even as Phalomir came to his. She stood a moment between the two, letting the vision she had been shown roll around in her mind, struggling not to shy away from what she wished so heartily to shy from; to relieve her inner consternation, she returned her focus fully upon Shayla once more.

"I would think you would wish to see to the needs of your husband," she said smoothly, nodding once again over Shayla's shoulder toward where Erik was now sitting on the floor. The young man was shooting a suspicious glance simply everywhere, rubbing his wrists as he did so.

Another movement: the smaller Sith had fallen unconscious. "Here is one who needs healing abilities as well," she went on, nodding to the snoring Panthar. Her lip crooked just the slightest; then she sobered and turned back to Phalomir.

All haughtiness was evaporated from her demeanor.

"Indeed, there is much we have to discuss, for what we have experienced I believe to be quite real," she agreed with his initial assessment, then fell silent.

His liege was quiet for the moment, deep in thought. This allowed Thoran time to reflect as well. He had played his role well these last several weeks, especially after 4500 years of lying dormant inside a crystal. Phalomir had not suspected a thing, and had it not been for the intrusion of the empire then the plans would have succeeded without a hitch.

But that was of no concern now. All was working out regardless. The Eye was in the possession of the liege. To the Warriors Phalomir was seen as a pompous fool and to the Sorcerers he was just the dangerous son of a traitor. Even the Dark Lady despised him. There would be no union, no son. The Eye would fail.

"Shayla I don't--" he started.

But she placed a finger to his lips, returning look for look. "Trust me," she said simply.

"You I trust," he commented, adding no more than that and not really needing to do so. Shayla understood very well what he was saying.

Casting something of a warning look in his direction in reply, Shayla then helped him haul himself to his feet.

"Anything else hurt?" she queried, looking him over.

"Nothing which demands immediate attention," he replied, sighing as he looked towards the unconscious Panthar. "Him however..."

Shayla followed Erik's brown eyes to that point where the smaller Sith...

...aka Panthar...

“I fear that my mind holds many secrets, even from me. I do not know extent of my power, but if it were able to unlock these secrets then it would have already.”

He sighed quietly.

Panthar’s eyes snapped open to see Shayla’s arm reaching over him. Her hand was on his forehead and warm sensations flow through his body.

The last time she had come close to using her powers near him, that thing, the Eye, had blasted her, knocking her unconscious....

Yet it was all about trust, was it not?

She closed her eyes, suddenly very, very tired of it all. Opened them and stared steadily into the green pair before her.

"Yes," she whispered then, reaching a slim hand for the neural focal points on his face.

“It is about trust, my lady, and I open myself to you. The Eye is no longer within me, but I have its power. A power which I can now control, unlike the other times we have met. I never wanted anything to hurt you.”

Then, the ghostly remnants of that smile still affixed to her face, she let herself grow deeper into herself, into his own mind, there seeking the answers he claimed to have hidden so far away from his own awareness. Answers, perhaps, to questions she herself harbored without knowing....

Each window allowed her to peer into memories of recent events, but growing less recent as she progressed down the hallway. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she came to a closed door at the end of the hall. It was locked, but with great effort she reached out with her powers and the door opened. It gave way to a larger hallway, this one much darker.

The first window showed a Sith face in a mirror, Phalomir. He was dressed in a formal robe, being attended to by many ladies as they prepared him for an apparently very special occasion. Soon he was being led down a corridor, reminiscent of the Sorcerer’s temple, but lined with art and devices unknown to the Chosen Daughter. He was met in a grand hall by hundreds of onlookers, and Jharmeen’s eyes widened as she witnessed the coronation of the new Dark Lord, the youngest in quite some time.

She stumbled backwards and her attention was captured by another window. A war raged, the Sith were fighting fiercely in ships of designs she had not yet seen against a foe she could not identify, and they were losing. She realized this was a battle for K’eel Doba, and the battle was being witnessed through a very familiar crystal device. Two Sith stood with Phalomir around the Crystal Octahedron, all dressed in the garb of a Dark Lord, though she did not recognize the other two. They all joined hands for a moment, and one of the two others cut a portal out of the air. “The All was responsible, the All shall save us,” said the other. "You make this sacrifice for us all." Phalomir smiled, stepped through and vanished.

The next window was clouded over, the images inside were too distorted to see. However, she could make out Phalomir again, still dressed in the Dark Lord robes, speaking with another Sith. The other was too distorted to see, but something was very familiar about the shape of the body, the size, the bend of the horns…. Roan!

The window grew a dark red, and the light in the hallway dimmed. From the far end of the hall came a low, guttural growl.

He was speaking with Dark Lord Roan!

Her eyes flew open even as her hands not so much fell as pushed themselves away from his face in her haste to put new distance between herself and him. By great stint of effort she managed to then hold her ground several feet from him now, her eyes filling with their customary haughtiness, her hands now fisting at her side.

"Perhaps the All can save you... BUT I SHALL NOT ASSIST YOU!" she cried out, taking another involuntary step backward in spite of her resolution to stand firm before him.

Lord Roan....

She shivered, struggling with herself, wanting to raise the Claw and send Phalomir into the Elseness, but was suddenly too afraid to even think it....

Phalomir’s eyes shot up to meet the lady’s.

“No, he deceived me!” he said hotly. “He sent me to others, too far back.”

His eyes grew pleading.

“Please, there is more. I know there is, but it is hidden from me. Help me, please, my lady.”

He kept his eyes trained on the Dark Lady even as his head began to shake.

“I am from the future, not the past… why then-- who could have-- then who is—“

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth slightly. A look of total confusion took hold of him.

Why, if he was in league with Roan, would he have killed him? Or rather, why would the Eye have done so? He claimed no control over it at the time, yet now he held it's awesome power at bay... which was truth, and which lies?

Her hands found themselves on opposing arms, moving up and down as though she were unconsciously trying to replace a modicum of lost warmth into her suddenly icy blood.

He was from the future...? Yet, this made sense. Had she not already guessed this, albeit on an unconscious level?

But why did she recognize her Sire as the larger of the Sith she had seen in their shared vision? How did he play into this?

Unless....

He was a Dark Lord of the Sorcerers, and skilled in All use. Which included the manipulation of not only matter and space, but time as well. And Phalomir was the son of a sorcerer.

Who to trust... and who not to? What vision to believe, when imagery ran like water within the caprices of time?

She paused, cut a glance around the room. Erik's eyes were positively on fire; the groggy Panthar was looking up at Shayla in confusion, who in turn was whirling, the offer of her assistance plain as day in every aspect of her bearing.

Graysith closed her eyes.

It was once all so simple....

She opened them, stared into verdant green. Used every lick of the talents Aelvedaar had so carefully honed within her...

...and then cast them abruptly to the wind. Instead, she now cocked her head, and viewed the towering Sith through nothing more than the eyes of a human woman, eyes which could read the subtleties of his posture, sense the almost invisible aura enveloping him like a shroud, eyes which brought information along with that obtained subliminally by her other senses into her brain, where they were assessed by nothing more than sheer intuition alone.

Bit by bit her grip upon her arms loosened, her pounding heart slowed.

"I-- I will trust you, Phalomir," she said quietly, and stood silent before him. Then she reached out once again to those points on his face, and proceeded to continue her investigation into the depths of his memories.

And again, from somewhere very far away, came the exceedingly mournful howl of the Beast.

...but what...?

She drew strength from her husband then, who in turn seemed very much angry, and very much...

...afraid?

His very demeanor cried out that they shouldn't trust this, that they shouldn't be here. And in that moment his thoughts read clearly in her own mind.

This turning point has happened so many times...

...and has deteriorated so many times as well. How can you trust? How can I...?

Pursing her lips then, she simply replied with, The Force has lead us here; the Force...

...and my Heart.

With nothing more than that simple explanation, she turned her attentions completely back to Panthar, who was gazing at her groggily, his eyes yet heavy. "You have to stay with me," she then spoke to him firmly, her hand not straying from his forehead. "Talk about something...

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asked slowly, his words drawn out. “Cuz if you wash juz gonna throw it away, I’ll eat it…”

Panthar looked up at Shayla.

“Hey, you ain’t so bad when you’re not all mad and shtuff… I like yer hair…”

He tried to smile but the pain in his head caused him to wince. He closed his eyes again for a moment then opened them, looking up again to Shayla.

But she also sensed something else. She glanced to her right and saw Phalomir standing next to her, dressed in the stately robes she saw in one of the earlier visions. He smiled and stepped closer.

“This time we go together,” he said, reaching out a hand and turning to face the darkness with her. In spite of her feelings, she smiled inwardly and took his hand.

“I remember, I was the Dark Lord of the Sorcerers. All of the Dark Lords in my line had a grasp of the All. However, my father believed the Sith were becoming too dependent upon its power and I was raised to trust in the traditional Sith magick. In fact, I led a resurgence in its use.”

A window flashed a scene as they passed of a younger Phalomir practicing levitation of huge objects.

“Even when I became Dark Lord, I refused to learn the All. Then the war came, although the details of that are still hidden from me. I do know that the other Dark Lords finally agreed with my concerns over the All, for I believe that its possession was over what the war was fought. I was chosen to travel back in time to the point where the All was first discovered… and prevent it. However, the Dark Lords who sent me had somehow missed their target. I ended up in a time ruled by Dark Lords who already knew the All.”

The next window they passed showed Phalomir sitting around a large table, seated across from Roan and another Sith whose face was blurred. Phalomir paused.

“I do not recall with who else I met that day, but I will never forget HIM. He vowed to assist me, and somehow he led me to trust him. He told me of the legend of the Eye of R’lous, a relic designed at the same time of the All’s discovery. It was made to help channel the power, but could also be used to dampen it. If I could travel time and find the maker of the Eye, I would then know how to prevent the All from being discovered.”

Phalomir shook his head. “It is all too confusing now, it was so clear then.”

They reached the edge of the darkness and the low growl stopped.

“I have found the Eye obviously, though I do not know how… or when, and somehow its power was bestowed upon me. Whatever beast the bastard Roan has placed within me, I feel that together we can defeat it.”

He turned his head to Jharmeen.

But to her and the time in which she dwelled... in which the Sith had returned, it was more than that. Much, much more.

Should she assist Phalomir? Indeed was she able to do so? And if so, would that be damning the Sith back to their prior extinction, one brought down upon them by the dark jedi? Was this then their fate, to live in circles of warfare and conquest and loss? Would this be damning Phalomir to extinction as well, since he came from a future time?

Did she have the right to lend a hand in that? But then... had the Sith race the true right, from the viewpoint of the Big Picture, to be returned to the present at all? Would that negate a false future which would have followed such an act... which so far appeared to have done so?

She trembled, shaking her head without being aware of it.

If they succeeded and the All was never learned of, or at the least knowledge of its control was never gained, Phalomir and his ghostly entourage would never have come into this time... they would not have been born. Relative to that... what about her son, Jharu? And her daughter, ShaRhylla?

Indeed... how would this unravelling affect her? Where would she herself now be?

She lifted her face up to his, sudden tears springing into her eyes. At first allowing his engulfing hand to squeeze her own, she now pulled lightly away.

"I cannot help you in this endeavor," she whispered in a low voice, still looking up into his eyes. And then after finally regaining control of herself, she proceeded to disclose her fears and reasons which led her to deny him.

"He isn't doing so good," she muttered under her breath, keenly aware that Erik was standing close by though her eyes remained closed. She added extra effort and pulled more healing energies from the Force, channeling them then straight to Panthar's mind...

...or was it still somehow the mind of Thoran? For the very ganglia and nerves whose pathways created memories were HIS, and not Panthar Dantares...

And at that very moment Shayla slammed against something within that very mind; something which strangely enough seemed to open up to her, and pull her in, intensifying the strength of the healing energies she was channeling to Panthar.

But how? It was almost as if...

...as if there was a link of sorts between her and this body...

...and after the vision she had, perhaps there was at that. And Thoran HAD been drawn to her back on Sullust...

Pushing all these possible realizations to the side for the moment, Shayla simply let her strong link with the Sith body bolster the influx of the healing energies of the Force.

Panthar, she thought to him, Come back.

And what of the Sith in this time? They had just been returned to life, in all practicality, and were set to flourish once again. With the knowledge he had locked away in his memories of events not directly altered by his actions, he could be invaluable to the race in establishing a new future. For indeed, had the future not been already altered by his presence here and other times he had visited?

He stared into the deep eyes of Jharmeen, losing himself for a moment in her closeness. Even in this strange place within his memories, he felt her warmth and was drawn. Why could he not remain here, secure in the knowledge of things to come? Or of the possibilities anyway…

What was his "time" now?

"Let that future begin from this point, now," she began... and stopped, completely sidetracked.

Her eyes widened.

"Phalomir, you were sent," she breathed in a barely audible voice.

"If you fail in the mission... will others come as well?"

Or was there only one timeline? If so, then all he had done was meant to be done, and whatever choice he now made would be the correct one since he had already existed in the future. This did not seem right…

He turned to look into the darkness once again. What answers were hidden there? Why had the Dark Lord Roan placed the beast to guard these memories? He held the hand of Jharmeen for a moment longer, and squeezed it.

“Wait here for a moment, please. There is one thing I must know.”

He gently let go of her hand and took a step forward. The instant his foot touched the darkness a set of enormous snapping jaws dominated the hallway before him. Loud, vicious snarls sent hot breath gusting at him, knocking him a step backwards. He yelled, took Jharmeen by the hand and ran back down the hallway. The snarling subsided and the jaws retreated into the darkness. They stopped.

Wide-eyed and panting, he looked to her. “The beast bore a seal – a ring through its nose –“ He reached quickly into his robe and pulled out an amulet chained around his neck. “This. That is, this is the very seal. There is only one. I know, because I made it… I placed the beast there. I do not know when… It is obviously guarding something I do not want myself to discover…”

He took both of her hands in his and stared into her eyes.

“I cannot dwell in the past, and I cannot live in fear of the future. The here and now, and the new future we make, that is what I vow myself to.”

Images of Recinis swam coolly before her.

She blinked, and gently pulled away from Phalomir. For a moment she simply stared up into his face; then she turned and faced the darkness. One foot slipped forward in its direction only to immediately freeze when another, stronger, snapping yowl came from somewhere in those red-black depths. She paused, then turned back to Phalomir.

"Come," she said at length. "We can learn nothing further here... at least not until you deem that we can... rather--" She quickly caught herself, and then finished.

"That you allow yourself access to your own memories."

She began to step away--

--and found herself suddenly returned to the Dining Hall, ringed by anxious warriors who warily eyed the tableau she and Phalomir presented to them. Off a little bit to one side was Shayla, who was working over the body of the other Sith, Erik standing nearby with crossed arms. A quick shake of her head to orient herself, a quick glance about--

Romanus was nowhere to be found.

--and Graysith turned her focus back upon Phalomir again. He was just in the act of opening his eyes.

She rose smoothly to her feet, unflappable now, icy in her demeanor.

"There is much upon which I must ponder," she said, clapping her hands. Salandaar came up to her and bowed.

“Strange,” he said.

He had been left alone for quite a while now, and although he loved his liege very much he was beginning to enjoy the feeling of solitude. He had not experienced such a peaceful time in many years – thousands, in fact. There was always someone there with him, whether it was the liege, or that awful time with Phalomir and the human Panthar Dantares, whose body Thoran now possessed. Oh, how good it was to be in a human body again! The Sith were powerful and magical, but they were prone to strange cravings and muscle aches, and nothing compared to the body of one’s own species. He had to admit, Panthar did take good care of this body.

There it was again, that feeling of something – tugging – at the back of Thoran’s mind. When he was a boy, his mother told him that his ear would itch when someone far away was thinking of him. That is what this reminded him of, except instead of an ear it was more of an itch in his mind. He let his mind relax and go blank, all thoughts flowing to a slow crawl. He let himself drift, falling towards that spot in his mind that was so suddenly active. What was this? A small tendril of something… some energy… reminding him of something… someone…

Then it was gone.

Thoran, I am ready.

Thoran snapped himself to attention. “Yes, my liege!”

It is now time to depart, I have sensed the brat opening the door I placed in his mind. By now he has discovered his identity and his purpose, and he will now be convincing the Lady to send him back to finish his “mission”. If he succeeds, we continue as planned. If not, then our frozen friends will be called upon earlier than expected.

Yes.

Yes, he did….

He looked to the Dark Lady, who had apparently just finished issuing orders. Her warrior captain – or perhaps her porter – was quickly moving and giving orders of his own to lower ranking guards. She moved away, gliding as she walked, almost floating. Phalomir felt his heart race and suddenly longed to move towards her, with her. The Warriors needed a Dark Lord…

He shook the thought from his mind, there was much more to consider now. He looked over to Shayla, who was busy with Panthar.

...til at length Panthar's fluttering eyes finally opened. Though they were cloudy, Shayla was certain he would recover so long as he remained alert. Only then did she flick her greeny-blue eyes to Phalomir.

"He should be fine so long as we keep him awake awhile," she stated aloud. "And as to how we came to this room...

...we were carried here after the Dark Lady fell unconscious back in the Receiving Hall."

With that she turned back to Panthar, nodding towards him as she did so, "We need to help him get to his feet," she then stated, glancing down into somewhat clearer eyes and suddenly finding herself lost as she connected with his mind to once more channel healing energies to him. She couldn't escape the implications of the way this Sith mind was responding to her Force-touch...

"And I don't know how or why," she started suddenly, her voice dropping to a whisper of either wonder or concern or perhaps both, "But there is some sort of link between my mind and the mind within this Sith body...

...which strongly implies I've met and had a Force-link with it, and I do not mean simply in the recent past. When Graysith fell unconscious in the Receiving Hall, I had a vision of something from my childhood which seems confirm this..."

She trailed, her eyes turning vague.

Do you not remember your Thoran...?

A link from her childhood... with a Sith; at least that's what the vague comment alluded. A Sith now seeming to have turned traitor, to have fled... a Sith mixed up with future lords, lords as adept at skipping through time as a stone being skipped upon a pond, lords striving to change the past for the sake of something other, something dark...

What other fantastical offering could be added to the fray?

She turned smoothly about but did not approach the group.

"Enough of your vagaries!" Her voice rang out clear and sharp.

"If you have information to disclose, then do so at once! For indeed, this must be the reason behind your return to this place after having been-- A heartbeat. "--requested to leave!"

She paused then, her eyes bright over the rim of her goblet, and pinned Shayla with a look. A look which clearly spoke of all the implications such a link might carry with it, a look which spoke of understanding of the inherent dangers such a link would have.

A look which hinted darkly that such a link must be eliminated entirely, no matter what it took to do so, for the sake of the future of the Sith.

"I don't know if it has any meaning in this puzzle or not," she started then, "But I am somehow linked with this body," she continued, motioning towards Panthar aka Thoran. "And I had a vision from my past back in the Receiving Hall, one in which a Sith-like apparition was beckoning to me. Perhaps it is all meaningless. But--"

Here she trailed, her eyes turning vague and dark as she then proceeded with, "But I have to think that this link I have found has been placed there for a purpose..."

Again her voice trailed, her eyes turning impossibly darker as thoughts began to play across her mind.

Indeed, what may this link be intended for? And furthermore, why now, of all times, are you realizing its existence? The Force does not lead in error...

...and how very convenient, you have a connection with Graysith and Thoran...

...and Thoran is being used or is working for someone who is after her. Oh, how entirely convenient...

Shayla's eyes snapped alert as she realized just what a danger she may be posing by being here at all...

...and by existing, for that matter. Pursing her lips, she realized what she had to do. Stepping closer to Graysith, understanding dawning in her eyes, she spoke one final time before falling completely silent. "This link is a danger to you...

...I can feel it." Here she paused, then finished with a silent but firm, "Do whatever you must to ensure it is not any longer..."

“Shayla, if you truly experience a link somehow with Thoran, then it is possible he knows what is happening here…”

He turned to the Dark Lady.

“My lady, there is much you need to know. I trust you completely, and seek your -- wisdom -- on these matters. You may have already guessed, but this Sith with me is Panthar Dantares. Thoran has betrayed me and inhabits Panthar’s body. I believe the Eye is attempting to communicate with me by sending brief visions and messages in the guise of Trelanicus – my ‘father’. It told me that Thoran is under the influence of a powerful spirit that inhabits Panthar’s body with him. The last message it sent was a plea to stop Thoran from discovering a device on the planet of the Armorers. The Eye is not your enemy, but it may be a weapon in their hands…”

Graysith paused for a moment, turning her attention from Shayla to Phalomir and then withdrew it a bit to consider them both. She stood there, toying with the goblet in her hand, letting her eyes drop for a moment to contemplate the richly colored liquid which swirled in its depths, much as her own thoughts now swirled about within her own head.

Thoughts which she chose for the moment to keep to herself. As indeed she had been doing.

After a second or two passed, she lifted her gaze once more to Shayla, and pinned her sharply with it.

“I spoke of no danger; I sense no danger that with the All and my warriors and the power of the Eye, which now appears to be with us--"

A sharp, quick look toward Phalomir; then her gaze expanded to encompass them both once again.

"--I cannot overcome. Who is this 'Thoran' to me? Merely the name of a traitor yet to be.

"Again, I say to you: if you have thoughts or information of this supposed danger, speak it aloud! I cannot battle against whimsies or vague notions or—“

She paused for an even shorter moment, letting her eyes cut again to Phalomir.

“—or ghosts,” she completed, then fell silent and took a sip of her brandy. It washed through her like the heat of the noonday sun, sending liquid fire through her veins.

Phalomir considered this, then his thoughts suddenly turned to the recent past. Shayla… what did he really know about her? He felt a strange connection with her way back on Sullust, the planet of the Tunnel Dwellers. Yet how was that explained? It was not.

Indeed, and what of the meeting with Sorben on the empire’s ship? He had tried to negotiate, but Shayla’s outbursts gave away much information that should have been held secret.

And why had she withheld information from him when he first mentioned he was looking for the person Graysith, who turned out to be Jharmeen?

And now she shared a link with Thoran? She even spoke of being visited by a Sith in her childhood?

Could she be part of this strange mystery of time and paradox? Was she being used as Thoran -- even Phalomir himself – had been used? Or was it even deeper than that?

Her eyes darkened.

"Clearly there is more afoot than meets the eye."

Her words cut the tension like a knife. Both Shayla and Phalomir seemed to sag the slightest bit, as if they were puppets whose strings were suddenly relieved of great tension. Graysith noted this, and went so far as to shrug.

"If this Thoran is such a danger, I am forewarned," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, moving gracefully to the sideboard and replacing the goblet with a small platter of meat Salandaar had prepared for her there. She picked it up, then leaned her hip casually against the rich gleam of the wood.

"And in being forewarned, I shall be ready should he or whoever it is he is in league with -- if indeed this is the case -- comes here to me.

"For come here he shall; do what you must to seek the device of which you speak, but I will not chase about willy-nilly like a pup after its own tail. Let this 'Thoran' use this link, of which so little has been said but so much attribute has been given, and follow it here to me. I fear him not.

"Do you hear?"

The latter she stated in a most distinct and careful voice, aimed directly at Shayla... one obviously not intended for that young woman's ears alone.

"Now wait just a damn minute," he said suddenly, breaking his silence. "I know not exactly what danger Shayla senses, but I do know this; she is here out of genuine concern and nothing more. Yet you would treat her as an outsider...

...and even as an intruder? Have you missed the fact that she has returned here even at a danger to herself, even after being so gently requested to leave, even after having her very own memories blocked?"

He paused, a frown upon his face. "You would criticize whether or not she has shown trust in you...

...but you show no trust in her either. She believes in you and in all that you are trying to accomplish here despite whatever happened to cause you to...

... request her to leave here. Has it not occurred to anyone that the reason for the vagueness in her explanations is because she is only now discovering some of these things herself? By her own admittance she has just had the vision of a Sith in her childhood and likewise has just discovered her link with Thoran by chance of healing this one," he said then, motioning back towards Panthar. "Do these things mean nothing...

"You speak such... interesting, if somewhat out of context words," she began sweetly enough. "But now that they have been spoken...."

Her demeanor grew icy, and her look hardened.

"I find them words which should come from her if they were to have meaning to me!

"Words along with others which should have been spoken to me! Not--"

She shifted the plate to one hand, raised the Claw-bearing hand directly to Phalomir.

"Not to him. If this danger truly exists, if this link is indeed more than a whimsy...

"Then why does she speak of it to him - he who shared mindspace with this Thoran and gods know who or what else! -- and not to me, the one she states--"

Another swift pause, and she turned fully to Shayla now.

"That you state you have returned here to warn? Have you no voice to speak up to me any further, although you claim to have come here to do that? Must this man--"

Another offhanded wave toward the by now spitting Erik.

"Speak for you? Or is this outburst of his a continued ruse as well, passionate words meant to distract me from your true purpose in being here?

"Your actions here contradict your words, Shayla. Think you that I am a fool to blindly trust when my eyes see that which is in front of them here? That which I must now assess according to what information I already have... unless, of course, you wish to divulge anything further in consideration as to why you really returned here. The All is at my command; I could have used it at any time to take from your mind that which could clarify this matter. What danger prompted this return against my wishes when you claim that you have only just now discovered this link? The link which, according to you is such a danger to me?"

"Why did you come back?!"

She came to a stop with that, seething inwardly with further personal justifications, but she knew that had no bearing here. She took up another piece of meat, and remained quiet.

...or because of something else entirely. But she most certainly did know why she had come back against Graysith's wishes...

...and it hadn't had a thing to do with this link she had suddenly found; so suddenly, in fact, that she hadn't the time to totally process it yet. Bolstering her strength, she glued her eyes to Graysith and answered her final question. "I came back here because I believe the one who is manipulating Thoran is none other than Dark Lord Roan. I have reason for coming to this conclusion, for Phalomir himself spoke about the addition of a new voice within the body of Panthar Dantares while he still inhabited it with Thoran; a voice which Phalomir himself labeled as the Dark Lord's."

Here she paused, pursing her lips a bit and flicking her eyes back to Phalomir a moment. Then she looked back to Graysith. "With the Eye he may find a way to bring harm to you...

...and perhaps he'll find a way to help himself. And who knows what he may do with this link I have so suddenly discovered..."

She slid her eyes back to Phalomir, to the one which someone... or rather, some...thing had enjoined her to trust.

She let that time tick onward, merely shifting her gaze back and forth between the two of them, before her eyes finally came to a rest upon Shayla.

"Very well," she breathed, drawing herself up regally once more. "Your message has been dutifully delivered. Again, I find myself to be forewarned, although...."

She paused one last time, letting her focus now turn inward, back into the revelations revealed to her through the link with Phalomir.

She nodded, coming to a conclusion.

"I fear no Dark Lord speaking from the dead. Ghosts, goblins and shades; they are incorporeal, of little substance and even less meaning. What is of meaning is the information disclosed to me by this one."

Now she slid her eyes to Phalomir, stared at him steadily, if suddenly a bit coldly. Her look never shifted as she finished up with,

"If that is the only reason why you have returned, then you are free to go, Shayla. You may consider your warning to have been duly received. I thank you for your inexplicable concern."

One of the myriad of voices then won out.

"No, that is not the sole reason I am here; we need to find the Eye. before it falls into the wrong hands."

Here she glanced to Phalomir and then back. "As you have stated, this link I have might lead us to it..."

Looking to Phalomir, she then ended with, "...so let's use it."

For a long moment she stared at the defiant Shayla, using every last bit of her own strengths to present a completely unreadable front to her, while deep within the Beast seemed to open it's great clawed paw just the slightest and snarl as if finding something frail and delicate trapped therein. That massive paw snapped closed with Graysith's next words.

"As I have already stated, your message has been delivered and is understood. As is the one your new companions have brought here as well."

A vision swam in front of her eyes, one to break the strongest unity: a triad of violet and turquoise and blue. She grunted, pulling away from that vision.

"Go chase your ghosts, Shayla, although I would heartily recommend that you leave well enough alone and go back into the realm from whence I pulled you. For if you do not heed my words--"

A rumbling bass snarl seemed to underscore her final words.

"You shall surely die."

...but even she wasn't certain that she was entirely successful in that matter. But knowing that perhaps the link she held was of a danger to Graysith...

...Shayla knew it was best that she did leave, and now. "Allright," she said softly, "I'll go."

Quietly then she turned, and took her first step out towards her waiting husband. But then she froze, turning back to Graysith, unable to restrain her final words. "But know this; no matter how I have failed you...

...I loved you as my own sister...

... and I always will."

Saying nothing further then, Shayla turned back to her husband even as he met her, his hand going around hers. "Let's go," he said softly, his brown eyes peering deeply in her own and reading something therein.

She nodded once in mute reply...

...who gave them pause, literally within the frame of those massive doors, by four softly spoken words. Four words uttered when she was certain that Shayla and Erik were totally beyond earshot.

"She must never know."

Phalomir turned round at that, surprise evident upon the strong planes of his face. His eyes widened in further surprise to see Graysith standing where she was, her hands quietly clasped, a single tear standing diamond-bright upon her cheek.

Their eyes met, his full of wonder, hers with the sudden release of pent-up grief held back far too long. Deep within herself the Beast rose to its feet, nosing about as if in quest of something, whining strangely when unable to find it. She fought against that, and instead raised the Claw-bearing hand smoothly, already knowing the questions he was readying to ask her, even while fighting against that Beast within so she could make answer to him.

"I too have had visions," she whispered, her thoughts going back to that last encounter she had with Lords Roan and Aelvedaar and Recinis amidst the gnarltrees on Dagobah.

"The unity of which your Prophecy speaks would mean her death. The link with the traitor is the key."

She blinked again, then again, unable to halt the sudden upwelling of tears which were now springing into her eyes.

"If she remained here, it would mean her death," she choked in repetition, sniffing and struggling to regain her icy control again. It floated as distant from her as the nearest star, taunting. "And knowing this would only press her into remaining here further with me. I could not beg her to go, not for her own sake...."

She paused again, her vision a watery blur. Her jaw worked a moment before she managed to continue.

"I lost a great deal of my love that day on Dagobah," she went on, heedless to the fact that Phalomir probably hadn't the slightest clue as to what she referred to, "but not quite all of it. Not... entirely....

"She must never know, for she would only come back. To save her life... she has to go."

With that she silenced for the final time. Then she whirled so as to present her back to those yet in the room, and simply stared at the wall behind her as if seeking answers there.

But she never really saw it, cold and stony there, at all.

“It must be a terrible pain to lose one’s love,” he spoke softly. “More terrible than losing one’s time and memories… and one’s purpose.”

He felt something rise in his throat, and he paused a moment to regain control. He closed his eyes.

“I have been the pawn of the future and the past for too long,” he whispered, unsure if he was heard and not really caring. “All I want is the present… all I want is you.”

His eyes slowly opened.

“Well,” thought Panthar. “I guess I’ll just stand here then. Cripes, what a bunch of wookie dung this turned out to be. I can’t believe they’re just going to let Shayla and whatshisname walk out like that! I mean, come on, we wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for them. The least they could do is make a –”

He stopped in mid thought. A quick vision flashed into his mind, a time not too long ago, but back when his body was shared by Phal and Thoran and who knows who else. Phal was talking to someone, maybe it was the Eye…

And what of Thoran? The Stargazer shall be his salvation…

“Holy crap,” he thought. “This can’t be over!”

He thought of saying something but hesitated. Let Phal have his moment, he’s had a long day. But only a moment!

"That is impossible," she finally whispered, turning smoothly round even as she spoke the words, coming then to a halt and standing quietly. Her eyes went steadily into Phalomir's green ones and remained there, unflinching, as though daring him to continue along that vein.

A slight smile worked its way onto his face.

"You do not understand," she whispered, her voice then strengthening, her demeanor backing up the scale until it had returned to its former state of iced command. Her eyes grew hooded; something flickered there, silver and gray, like mercury in the mist.

"I did not lose 'a' love on Dagobah. I lost my love. My ability... and not by happenstance. I wrenched it from my being freely--"

She broke off, unwilling to divulge anything further. The Beast within was beginning to snap, preventing anything from so much as trying to peep in discovery upon the true Jharmeen Jhin'Dar Q'utaro.

She drew in a breath, and finally went on.

“I have met your beast, my lady,” he said. “I know of what you speak. I have my own beast, placed by my own will, though it guards something different… I believe…”

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I will be here if you decide differently.”

“Phal, buddy?”

Phalomir straightened but did not turn.

“Hey, remember a while back when you were asking the Eye or something about how to get back into your bodies? And it said something that we all thought had to do with that? Uh, yeah, OK, I admit, I was listening.”

He cleared his throat.

"The Stargazer shall be the salvation...of who? Of the one you call Thoran, the one who is so heavily mixed up in this entire black design of the snatching of bodies and the planting of false memories?"

Now she stepped forward toward Phalomir, reaching out an earnest hand to him. Her eyes grew huge and moist again.

"This might be the nexus which was revealed to me on Dagobah," she whispered. "This might be the connection which leads to Shayla's doom.

"You must not allow it to happen, not if--"

He came to the past in search of a way to prevent the All from being discovered, but found himself entangled in a twisted plot of prophecy and conspiracy, played like a pawn in the grasp of some insane master. All he desired was to remain here, in the now, not fearing the future or the past, but basking in the arms of this human woman. But she had locked away her love and placed a powerful beast to guard it, what chance could he have in unlocking that love? What right had he to even try?

What was left for him then?

Something stirred deep within Phalomir, as if a slow, powerful creature had been suddenly stirred from an ancient slumber and its penetrating eye gradually opened. Phalomir was a Dark Lord, ruler of the Clan of the Sorcerers. He felt the power of the Sith surge within him, the magick of eons flowing in his heart, the strength of the Warriors coursing through his veins. He saw the Dark Lady’s face grow slightly curious as it was suddenly bathed in a soft red glow.

“I will be no pawn,” he said steadily. The Dark Lady watched as two tattoos seemed to burn through his face and cast a red light upon her. On his right was the symbol of the Sorcerers, but on his left cheek was the unmistakable markings of the Warrior clan.

“This I vow: I will bring this madness to an end. With all of the power of the Sith, I will protect Shayla and end the plans of these architects of the future. My life is a paradox, my will is stronger than destiny.”

He lingered a moment longer, staring into her eyes.

“She will live, my lady.”

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and took a step backwards. The symbols on his face dimmed to a cool black, but did not fade.

During this entire phenomenon, the entire length of Phalomir's discourse, she remained frozen in place, her eyes now glued in disbelief to the symbols affixed to either side of his face. Unable to help herself then, they flashed down to her own wrist, seeking reassurance of what had been endowed to her. Her own Tattoo of Entitlement lay there, silkenly gold and gleaming softly, a gentle reminder of a happier time in her recent past.

One of very few such times in her entire life. One of two....

Another shudder brought her focus up to Phalomir's visage again; it was stern and regal before her.

What evolution had the Sith undergone in days which were yet to come, which could bring such a strange union of clans into being within one Lord? Why these two? What of the dearth of Armorers... a dearth which-- She jerked with startlement, realizing this even as the thought came to her. -- a dearth which they did not have until brought forward into this time, her present....

She shook that from her, and let her eyes focus on Phalomir once again. Muscles worked in her face as she clenched her teeth together, working her jaw... and then let herself loosen. Let one final time the mantle of authority drop from her shoulders.

“Panthar, come,” he said, still focused on the Dark Lady. “We must find Shayla and Erik before they depart.”

He bowed slowly to the Dark Lady.

“We shall first seek out the Armorers,” he said. “I feel there is something I must do there, something which shall make me complete.”

The other Sith, the uncomfortable one near Phalomir...he was also interesting. Ragorian had allowed his finely tuned senses for spirits to wander over the guests of the Dark Lady. Phalomir was a full-blooded Sith, and Erik and Shayla were both humans, with a seeming outside strength he could not place. Perhaps that was this Force the Lady had referred to.

That second Sith, though. He was not what he seemed. Though from the outside he was Sith, from the inside his spirit was definatly human. How this had happened, and if it could happen again, Ragorian was desperate to find out. Hopefully this Eye, if he could find it, would be able to help.

As he stood on the tmple steps, Ragorian reached out with his senses. He knew that the Eye dwelt somewhere on this planet, and he was hoping he could sense it's weilder. If it had a weilder, of course.

Streaching...stroving...his senses pushing to their limit...he finally found something. At first, the "scent" was only faintly human, but, as Ragorian persued it, he uncovered another layer. He sensed a spirit rich and familiar. The spirit of a Sith.

But it was not leading him anywhere!

Romanus' body was exhausted, so Ragorian stopped to think. The "scent" of this being, this Sith-in-human, was strong. He should have been able to follow it easily....but he could not.

Which was impossible. Ragorian's senses were never wrong. He had scoured this planet, but he had found nothing. The "scent" had not gotten any closer. That could not be happening...

Unless....unless the creature was not on this planet.

Improbable though it was, it seemed the only answer. Something was strengthening this creature's essence, so much that it could be sensed from another planet. What was it?

Ragorian thought for a moment, then laughed at himself. It was so obvious. The Eye! What else could have such power, so obviously Sith. It finally made sense.

Now the problem was how to get to this other planet. Ragorian soon remembered the answer to that one as well. Hadn't he come here in a ship? Yes...that Imperial fool's ship. Excellent. The pieces were falling into place.

Go chase your ghosts, Shayla, although I would heartily recommend that you leave well enough alone and go back into the realm from whence I pulled you. For if you do not heed my words--"

--you shall surely die."

At this thought Shayla blinked, closing her eyes then as if to shut out the emotions welling up within her.

There is no emotion, only peace, a little voice niggled, trying to remind her of something from long past. She pursed her lips, eyes still closed. That was NOT who she was. Everything, even one's own emotions, were part of a wonderful and complete whole...

Shayla pursed her lips together even harder. I can show you how to become whole...

And somewhere deep inside, something cried out in utter despair and sorrow.
And there goes another important person in your life, just like that. First your parents, then your brother...

...though gods know you shut him out as well...

...and now this. Why the change? Why the rejection? Was it something you did...

...or are you in fact correct in believing that perhaps something HAS happened to Graysith to change her...?

Shayla's thoughts were then interrupted by the approach of footsteps. Whirling, she turned in time to see the entering Phalomir and Panthar...

...and to see the two blackened tatooes upon the former's face. Her eyes widened once more...

...for she knew the usual significance of tatooes in the Sith culture. And upon further scrutiny, Shayla realized she recongized both of them...

The marks of the Sorceror and Warrior clan...

Shayla slitted her eyes. "Just how did you get those?" she queried then, suddenly feeling very suspicious, "And what do you plan to do now after Graysith's warning concerning our search for the Eye?"

With nothing futher than that, Shayla leaned back, folding her arms and waiting to see just how Phalomir might reply.

“Our search for the Eye is but a small part of our journey,” he said. “It is perhaps more important to all of us if we seek the being Thoran and his master.”

He smiled.

“You must know of things I have recently discovered of myself, I will tell you as we travel. Our paths are the same, Shayla, for we seek to defend that which we love, whether or not those wishes are shared with others. A wise man once told me to not lose hope in what you believe is true, for as long as you believe it then there is hope. If you are true to this cause, you will find no stronger ally than myself.”

He stared sincerely into her eyes, then set his face in a warm smile.

...not until he gave the name of his next planned destination.

Korris'ian...

At that word, waves of memories splayed across her mind's eye causing a surge of emotion.

"I...I can't go back there," Shayla said softly, her voice trailing for a few long moments. Then, with effort, she refocused her gaze upon Phalomir. "I don't know if I could bear being in that place again," she then reiterated, "And aside from that...

...I don't know its coordinates..."

Phalomir sat in a chair and looked back to Shayla.

“It may have much import to what needs to be done, or what may have been done already... or what may have been done at a time before yet still to come...”

He raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Oh, and as for the coordinates, the ship knows. There should be a diamond-shaped pad somewhere among the controls. Touch the one with the crest of the Armorers and a course will be plotted... I think. I at least learned that much in primary teachings.”

He smiled again, then cocked his head.

Only then did Shayla turn back to Phalomir to answer any of the questions he had directed her way. As she did so, her eyes grew a bit vague. "I'll manage allright on Koris'ian," she started, "But as for my experience there...

...someone I knew, who had strong involvement with the Sith...

...he died there. His wife was Graysith's blood sister," she explained, trailing then for but a moment then suddenly changing the subject to answer his first question.

"And as to what I was referring to when I asked you how you got those," she continued, "You have blackened tatooes of both the Warrior and Sorceror clans, one on each cheek. How in the name of all the fates did those suddenly appear upon your face...?"

Blood sister? Is that what Shayla had said? Graysith had a blood sister? But when had this been? WHO had this been? Perhaps…

He looked to Shayla, who suddenly seemed sad beyond all sadness to him. He wondered at the possible answers to this…

“Shayla….”

She turned slowly to face him, her expression empty. Thoughts tried to form in Phalomir’s head, but he could not put the right words together. Finally he settled...

“We should communicate with the Empire and ask to leave the system.”

"Sir!" he cried out, still managing to keep his eyes pinned to the board in front of him even though the rest of his body cried out to his superior officer.

"That strange ship is leaving this planet; shall I pull out the tractor beam?"

The Officer on Deck approached and leaned over the ensign's shoulder, gazing at what the monitors were displaying for all to see. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the finger of the ensign, hovering anxiously over the switch to cut power to the tractor beam in the direct path of that ship.

"Negative, ensign; hold fast," the Officer on Deck ordered, his eyes pinned to the display. "We have our orders...."

He returned to the ensign's station, and opened a return line.

"This is Imperial destroyer Carnage, returning comm to unnamed vessel and Ms. Stargazer-Petrolu. A request from Lt. General Tarnus: has the item he requested you search for been found?"

Shayla shot a quizzical look in Phalomir's direction. "Tarnus requested us search for something?" she queried, an eyebrow quirked in suspicious query. "Funny, you never mentioned it...

...just what exactly was it you were supposed to be looking for, and what do you want me to tell the Impys concerning its search?"

Falling silent at that, Shayla merely waited, her eyebrow still raised, to see just just what Phalomir might say.

“Ah, yes, Sorben’s request. Tell them that this trip regrettably did not allow us time for a thorough investigation, but we intend to return and shall have an answer for him shortly afterwards.”

Phalomir sat back as Shayla relayed the message, then turned back to him with an inquisitive look.

He met her gaze with one of his own.

“Assuming I survive my trip to the Temple of the Weapons Clan, I have much to tell you. But there are still questions I need to have answered for myself, things that must make sense to me before I can try to relay them to you.”

He looked in turn to all three of his shipmates.

“I trust you, all of you. That is what has been missing from me for quite some time, the ability to trust. But it does exist within me, and now I ask you to trust me just a bit further. I feel that there is something waiting for me at the temple.”

He focused on Shayla.

“I understand you have suffered greatly in your life. It shall not be in vain, and it shall be better for you.”

"Lt. General Tarnus is concerned with your brief stay within this system. Please relay your destination."

A flick of his finger sent the message off, and the Officer on Deck straightened up, rolling his head around a bit to relieve the cramp he had managed to get in his neck.

Seeing no need to go into any further detail unless it was required of her, Shayla simply fell silent and waited for whatever other questions the Empire might have for them...

...and all the while something was trying to point out the fact that perhaps the Empire was getting a little suspicious concerning what they were doing...

The Officer on Deck nodded in mute agreement as he sent out a final reply to the ship.

"Affirmative on request to depart Khar Delban system. Be advised that in light of your destination, an escort of TIE defenders shall accompany you. Please relay flight vector and destination coordinates to your escort.

"This is Carnage, out."

He straightened as he closed the link, turning to initiate the orders in followup to that message. He had lifted a finger to make it officially so, then stopped. A smile crept across his features as a neighboring port showed the quadruple lines of four defenders' ion propulsion, pushing away from each of the little fighters, which in turn sent it heading in the direction of the Sith ship, all four in perfect synchronization with each other. Another glowing green light went red, indicating a dropped tractor beam; the defenders took up a position spaceside of the disengaged tractor, and silently awaited the arrival of their assigned target.

"They don't trust us," she muttered, reaching then to the navboard and flipping a switch in preparation to send the requested coordinates. Her eyes turned a bit dark.

She'd bet her last credit that once the Impys found out this was a Sith planet they were heading for--

that was, if they didn't know so already--

--that they'd have a blockade up around it within a standard day at the very most.

"But--" she then said aloud, "There's little need in fighting this one with them. Gods know that those defenders could blow this transport into space matter should we try to...

... disagree with them."

Without waiting for Phalomir to say anything further and somehow sensing that he probably agreed with her on this little matter, Shayla's hands played across the navboard til at length their destination coordinates were sent. Then, knowing that the tractor beam had been momentarily lifted due to data she had retrieved from the navboard, Shayla moved the transport into position between the awaiting defenders, one hand hovering above the hyperspace pad. Her greeny-blues scanned the area, keenly aware of the defenders surrounding her. And at that, one final errant thought swam across her mind as she waited for the Empire's next move.

Dear gods, it would sure be nice to have a much more well-equipped ship...

*PSSHK-kktk*

The Officer on Deck straightened up as odd symbols began rolling across the navigation ensign's screens. "I say, this is peculiar," he commented as he tried to make heads or tails of the strange symbols the Sith ship's computers had obediently sent to the mainframe aboard Carnage, literally pixel by pixel.

"Have this translated at once!" he barked, reaching to increase the scroll rate until at length something with a familiar patterning popped up. Something cool and soothingly mathematical.

Some say that is the length of time for all the matter to be created which in turn ended up creating the Universe. To a person on death row, it is the fleetingest of appointed time, yet strangely enough time in which an entire life may be reviewed with crystal clarity. To others, it can drag like the ominously steady approach of entropy itself.

And for four TIE defenders....

*PSSHK-kktk*

"Bravo-delta zero niner, this is Bravo echo niner one; why have we dropped--"

"Say Charlie-foxtrot, ought-seven in transit-- what--??"

"CARNAGE, CARNAGE, ZERO NINER SILENCE, I REPEAT ZERO--"

"MY GOD, the sun, THE SUN, it's too clo--"

.....

The Officer on Deck whirled, shock and dismay warring on his face as he raced to the nearest commboard and tried to raise the defenders. The ensign there pushed aside so his desperate fingers could play the tune they needed... to no avail. He turned his eyes up to meet those of his superior, whose own were now filling with dark anger.

Another quick relay of a message to Relentless, and he began an impatient wait....

"Identify," I said succinctly, even as I reached for the helmet which lay handily upon my reading table. That hand froze when Landarian's deep voice responded, again bringing with it a slight note of... well, trepidation would be understating it.

"Come," I said, settling back into my seat, and waving him to take one of his own. He shook his head as he approached, all protocol tossed to the wind as he held out a chip to me in silent accusation.

"They never had a chance," he opened tersely, then fell silent. I frowned at that, turning a bit to slide the chip into my desktop. The last frantic transmissions from the defender escort I had ordered rang loudly in my quarters, and remained ringing for some time afterward in my rapidly darkening thoughts.

"We had the entire transmission that Sith ship sent analyzed," Landarian went on. "It appears to be a fast-acting virus; initially undetectable, but one which scrambles coordinates and triggers involuntary drop from hyperspace. It appears to be a built-in defense mechanism to prevent any ships from following the sender...."

He trailed, his eyes growing dark with anger and pain for the loss of the men, even though they were stationed aboard another ship. I know my own eyes mirrored his; perhaps even carrying a bit more emotion in their depths.

So much for trust, I thought to myself as I rose and placed a hand on the captain's shoulder. Why would Phalomir send that transmission otherwise?

We stood there a long moment, eyeballing each other in silence, until I came to a decision.

"When and if that ship returns, do not allow it entry into this system without notifying me first."

He saw the others drifting off, and realized that it been many hours since any of them had slept. Indeed, he himself felt weary. He allowed his mind to slip into a quiet trance and eventually fell asleep.

---

Phalomir walked in a long, dark stone corridor. The walls were covered with moss and a damp, musty odor permeated the entire hall. He continued on, lights from an unseen flame playing along the wall. He heard shuffling sounds ahead, and stopped. At the end of the hall a figure emerged, slender and dark, but the light reflecting from the red hair and violet eyes told Phalomir who it was. He walked quickly to her, and as he drew near she opened her arms to him. They embraced, Phalomir sending all of his emotions towards her to warm her spirit. But Phalomir felt his love stop, and the lady stiffened and backed away, her face set in an emotionless stare. He tried to understand, but could not. He simply stared into her eyes blankly, until an image took shape in the reflection there. An image of a small bundle floating in a void… a small human baby, much too small… much too frail… much too… unnatural….

---

All seemed secure... and she moved on through the corridors toward her chambers, a slender and somehow displaced wraith, where she removed her finery, ran through a few stretching exercises, and finally retired for the night upon the soft and regal vastness of her bed.

She had a dream.

Unexpectedly it came, at first no more than mere sensation, then an increasing coalescence from the seeming void until her whole world was engulfed in green. It was a warm green, a caring green, a loving and vibrant green, like that of a new spring day... and it was one she had seen and felt before.

Her body tossed and turned in reply to that verdant shadow even as her psyche squinted its ethereal eyes and concentrated on giving substance to incorporeality. And finally obedience came in the aspect of a face which formed from the cloud, a green-eyed Sith who stared deep into her very heart.

At first she recoiled... then stopped and held herself steadily, staring with unblinking aloofness back into the depths of those green eyes as if reaching for something deeper. A part of her she was unaware of screamed out how wrong this was, so very very wrong... even while a logical portion understood the oxymoronish aspect of the entire affair and laughed aloud to see it.

Now other images came: the turquoise-eyed Darth Wicked, whose eyes segued into yet another turquoise pair, which gradually changed in hue, losing the blue until they too were green and Lord Recinis's face smiled down upon her; another pair of eyes rose silent into this throng, dark and fathomless eyes, eyes shining out from a human face rather than that of a Sith....

And over it all, a brilliantly flat and pewter pair stared and watched and glinted and strained to see further, deeper, more secretively....

She awoke with a start, finding herself reaching, both arms outstretched to what she didn't know.

...and with new images lying therein. She just couldn't escape the image of that Sith apparition beckoning to her...

...it was simply everywhere.

But why? Was this Thoran? And if he had been in her past before...

...why hadn't she ever remembered him til now?

Shayla awoke with a start as the Sith transport began to bleep, signaling their imminent return to realspace. Snapping alert, she sat forward and let her hands play across the navboard in an almost automatic fashion, and in moments starlines returned to stars. But as they reverted, Shayla didn't yet see the planet in front of them...

...nor did she see anything else for that matter. She froze, only her eyes moving to scan that blank void of space in front of her...

...and around her. Something in the Force tremored in...

... warning perhaps...

...or maybe it was something else.

Minutes ticked by, and not a soul in that Sith transport uttered a word, as if everyone was hanging on a thread in expectation for the arrival of their escort...

...which, unbeknownst to them, would never happen.

At length Shayla could stand the silence no more. She whirled to face Phalomir.

"Where ARE they?" she whispered urgently, the Force almost literally screaming that something was wrong. "Somehow I don't think the Empire would simply back out of the possible exploration of a Sith world...

As soon as he stepped onto the soil, the smell got stronger. He was close. It wouldn't take long to find this creature.

Suddenly, Ragorian felt a pang of hunger shoot through him, an internal arrow of pain. Romanus' body crumpled as Ragorian silently cried out. He had forgotten...it had been so long since he had fed. His dependancy on the spirits of living beings for strength had become too strong. Shaking, Ragorian pulled himself to "his" feet. He needed sustenance soon.

And, as he suddenly noticed, his presence was having its effect on Romanus' body as well. He could barely keep it standing, and sweat coursed down its face and arms. He could not go on much longer. Now was the time for speed.

Hope still remains.

We begin upon a ship entering the Khar Delban system, per request of yours truely.

Call it a favor, or pilot ambitions to savor one's life.

I care not. Not about life, death or the here-after, I've experenced them all.

I stand, in bitter anticipation of what the evil inside me will do next.

"Pilot, are you being received?" I ask him, knowing his response shall waist away his final breath.

The vessel comes to a stop before a mass of Imperial ships, as I position myself between the optical viewer giving the Empire their first look at the pilot aquiring permission to enter orbit and the small window pearing into space ahead.

"Yes," came his final word. I toss an energy-orb, with enough power to vaporize a low level sith, from hand to hand with the ease of a child's ball.

This was my moment to take surprise over the mighty-enough Empire. I find it complacent on most occasions, but less so to orb my constitution from ship to ship, or planet to planet for that matter. As I cascade the pilot with eluminating death, I focus my limitless powers on the nearest starship.

A simple grimace is all the pilot afforded at my expense, an afterthought. A thought that leads me to a familiar path, a path I abandon before I can remember another moment from my past.

I appear to a low-grade officer plad in grey, much like a ship would de-cloak to it's prey.

He, like countless others, had no chance.

I close my eyes, to a bright(somehow, still dark in nature) orange hue comes the starship bridge.

"Stop, you," my hand points accusingly in the direction of the officer controlling navigation,"take this vessel planet-ward, I want my feet on solid ground in 20 minutes, that is your manifested task. You really don't want me coming back."

As I stare into his appalling glance, his eyes meet mine. From the fires of Hell, to the farthest plain of the darkest of dark realms, my pain is expressed in his fear.

"really."

Phalomir reset the view and turned to Shayla.

“I must concur,” he said. “I too have a bad feeling about this.”

He cocked his head slightly.

“I wonder,” he said, reaching for the comm switch. He touched a few buttons to change the output intensity. “This is shuttle Truth Seeker, to Relentless. We have just emerged in orbit around Koris'ian, and your escort fighters have not joined us. We will continue with our business and hope they arrive shortly, and that by the time you receive this message all shall be well. Truth Seeker out.”

He turned back to Shayla and shrugged. He then focused the viewscreen on the nearby planet. He smiled, studying the rugged outline of the coasts, the green of the jungles and forests, the lights… wait… there were no lights…

“Shayla,” he said. “There are no lights. Something is not right here, this should be a thriving Sith planet. Unless… Can you take us down there?”

He played with a few more controls, working the console with apparent ease. The viewscreen changed, zooming in on a portion of the planet until a large temple at the heart of a grand, empty city filled the view.

It was hard to tell from all the way out of wherever they were. They had been on a distant fly from where they planet Za'in once called home. This place was far, away from his adventuring zone and it was all brand new.

Brand new.. He mused, the tone in his head the sound of a baby with a new toy.

The strident bark brought the navigations officer to his feet as if he was a puppet whose strings had been handily jerked. He stiffened, whirling to face the onset of the approaching Major, who did not look the least bit happy about the state of affairs. That worthy gentleman stormed up well inside the younger man's territorial imperative, and stuck his nose millimeters from his face.

"Have we broken orbit?" he asked in a fierce whisper.

The lieutenant paled a few shades, and stiffened further.

"No, Sir!" he replied smartly, letting his clenched hands press against the sides of his legs to keep him on his feet. He stared straight ahead into that vague middle space which exists in the air directly in front of every superior officer's forehead.

The Major scowled.

"I thought I saw--" he began, then snapped his mouth closed. An uncomfortable sort of silence expanded outward from the pair which impacted every other man on the bridge of that ship. They in turn studiously examined their stations, unwilling to stick their noses into what was going on behind their backs, each man inwardly happy that he wasn't the one called out on the carpet.

The lieutenant shifted his gaze to another vague spot just on top of the Major's left cheek. He in turn scowled.

"The tractor beams are interlaced yet with our sister ship?" he inquired, leaning a bit to one side to view the readings displayed on the navigation board. "It is imperative... imperative!! ...that we maintain our position and do not let that beam drop!"

The lieutenant leaped upon this small crumb like a starving rancor.

"Yessir!" he exclaimed, sweat now cooling upon his face. "The status quo will be maintained as directed... Sir!"

The Major nodded then and turned away to address the issue of another ship popping into space a few million kilometers away from the blockade. He leaned into the communications mike, and cleared his throat.

"Unidentified ship, relay your name, entry code if you have it, and destination," he barked, soothed by the fact that with this simple order he was able to retreat back into his comfortable world where his forces were in command, and did not have to deal with ships which seemed to flicker about in their orbits, willed there by ghosts who seemed to have the ability to make it so....

The young officer had called my bluff.

I slip further back into the darkness, waiting for my next advantage.

For a moment, she closed her eyes to clear her trepidation, then she opened them and glanced at the image Phalomir had retrieved once more. This time she carefully pushed all traces of any emotion far away. Her greeny-blue eyes shifted to Phalomir. "I know this place," she said simply then. "I too find it strange that while K'eel Doba and Khar Delba are bustling with life, this planet remains dead as it was the last time I was here..."

She trailed a moment. Dead...

With nothing other than that, Shayla turned and began to work at the navboad, easily bringing the Sith transport into Koris'ian's atmosphere. Locking in upon the destination Phalomir had provided then, Shayla guided the ship towards the Temple and simultaneously pulled up some data on the life within the planet...

...which was mostly to occupy her time. Shayla was already keenly aware that there was little life here, and that what was here was probably not sentient.

"We'd better be careful and land right near the Temple," she stated then suddenly. "This place has some deadly wildlife..."

Again Shayla trailed. "...very deadly..."

Pursing her lips at that, she fell completely silent and focused on matters of getting the Sith transport down to the surface before the Temple which, though grand, wasn't nearly as elaborate as either of the other two Sith temples she had seen. Only when her descent was finalized did she turn back to Phalomir once more, this time expectantly. "Well, doesn't look like there's any life here...

...but there's no harm in at least taking a look; who knows what we may find..."

A momentary hesitation. "Shall we have a look?"

"Fly casual," he muttered then off-handedly. Matt merely rolled his eyes in response, and Jasyn's eyes drifted back towards the blockade.

Now or never...

As he scanned the area, Jasyn caught sight of Za'in's ship hovering nearby, almost expectantly. Automatically then, Jasyn reached for the comm unit and punched in Za'in's comm frequency. "Almar, this is Jasyn Lancaster. Since you insist you can get yourself in..."

He trailed for the barest of moments, scowling, "...we're going in. You may tell the Empire that you are with me when they approach you; that's the best help I can give you since you decided upon bringing your own ship. See you on the other side, I hope."

With nothing more than that, Jasyn snapped off the comm frequency, and opened a general frequency to then transmit the clearance code that he had been given...

...and had memorized...

...to the Imperial blockade before him. Then he simply held his breath and prayed that the Empire wasn't going to suddenly change its mind on them...

For someone.

"This is Imperial ship Carnage replying. Clearance already given per order of Lt. General Tarnus; you have entry clearance only into this system.

"Carnage, out."

He flipped the switch to send the return winging on its way, then fell silent, his eyes hooding as he waited for a reply from the yet unidentified ship which was remaining so obstinately and ominously quiet.

“Perhaps I should go on ahead?” he asked, he 30 yards suddenly seeming further than it did a moment before. “Cover me?” He looked back to his three companions, who all looked at him skeptically. He then realized that not one of them had a weapon.

Phalomir swallowed hard.

“Very well then,” he said. “Shout loudly should you see something then.”

Not waiting, Phalomir turned towards the temple and began walking. The forest around him was alive with the sounds of birds and small animals. Ten yards down. The trees teemed with life, greener than most areas he had seen even on his homeworld. 20 yards down. A large flock of birds burst upwards towards the sky to his left, startling Phalomir into pausing. He watched them trail away deeper into the forest and turned back to the temple. He was nearly to the first step, only a few yards to go. He put a foot out to take a step then noticed the extreme quiet that suddenly bore down upon him from the once bustling forest.

He looked to his left. Nothing. He looked to his right. Nothing. He chanced a look behind him, catching the anxious faces of his companions. A single thought dashed to the front of his mind, and the innate power within him propelled the thought forward into the minds of those who waited at the base of the ship.

GET BACK INSIDE NOW!

He turned and began to run for the temple entrance. His foot landed on the first step as he heard the sound of breaking twigs to his left. He bound up the steps three at a time, his heart racing. He heard the unmistakable sounds of heavy claws on stone somewhere behind him. He saw the temple doorway, the ancient door long ago fallen, along with many of the large statues that once were placed above the doorway, into a massive heap, blocking all but a slender portion the opening. He felt a sudden urgency even more immediate than the moment before and dove for the doorway, hitting the stone floor inside with a loud scattering of rocks and dust, and rolled to the side as a huge clawed foreleg slammed to the ground beside him. He glanced up and saw the leg and maw of a huge tuk-ata in the doorway, the rest of the beast too large to fit past the rubble.

Phalomir sat and stared at the animal, letting his heart slow to a dull pound and his breath return. The tuk’ata pulled its paw back out and peered through the opening at Phalomir.

"Well, my friend," said Phalomir. "I trust you will guard the door for me until I return."

The answer came in the form of a low growl and the sounds of shifting stones outside.

--quite literally--

--and moved the ship towards the clearance. Reflexively, Jasyn held his breath as they passed through...

...and was more than merely thankful that in moments later they were safely on the other side. No sooner did they pass through then did the monitor flash once more, indicating that the tractor was once more fully in place.

Let's hope getting out will be that simple, a little voice whispered.

Jasyn ignored the thought, and turned his attentions to the navboard which was in front of him. As K'eel Doba loomed closer and closer, he reached for the controls to pull up data concerning the planet. Immediately a computerized mapping popped up, clearly indicating a few spots where the ship's computer picked up absolutely...

... nothing.

This was the advantage over the Empire, before me. Simply make myself seen for a few brief moments and slip away to where I then know the ship to be.

For style alone, I orb to the very projection of the large, forward bridge window.

I know not if I was seen, where I ended up was anyone's assumption.

"Move!" she yelled back at Panthar as her own feet scurried for the Sith transport. Somewher in the distance, Shayla could hear the faintest sounds of massive footfalls.

That only prompted her to move more quickly. The second they cleared the hatch of the transport, Shayla slapped down a control, causing that same hatch to close securely behind them.

Only then did she take a breath. "That was close..." she muttered, suddenly feeling entirely vunerable. Her eyes flicked to Erik and rested there a moment...

...and then she realized she couldn't escape the truth of the issue which was pressing heavily upon her heart despite how she wanted to deny the fact it needed to be addressed. "If we are going to protect ourselves," she started, trailing a moment as her eyes turned vague. "We're going to have to make ourselves lightsabers..."

...which was beginning to stretch out into entirely too lengthy a one.

Meanwhile, from the belly of the ship a pair of TIE interceptors ravened out, screaming soundlessly toward the laced tractor beams which obediently dropped for them mere nanoseconds before impact would have occurred. They flicked back on in their wake, mute energies trying vainly to warm the incredible chill of the space around them.

Jasyn just scowled. "Have I mentioned I have a bad feeling about this?" he then growled, eyeing the interceptors himself.

Matt shrugged. "Well, at least we have a modicum of protection," he replied.

"Protection or serveliance, take your pick," Jasyn responded darkly. Then, deciding he really didn't want to take the time to see if the holes in K'eel Doba were what Dash had sensed, he began to continue with, "Just lock on the biggest one of those nothings and..."

Before Jasyn could finish, a red light...

...one which he hadn't ever seen before...

...began flashing urgently on the navboard.

"What the...?" He started, glancing over to Matt. Needless to say, he didn't like the look which was growing on the red-headed man's face. Nor did he like his buddy's next words.

"That's the life-sign indicator," Matt spoke up, then reaching to the navboard to key something in.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Jasyn said, eyeing Dash and not particularly liking his look either. He glanced back to Matt, whose hands were still at work. Then suddenly he froze where he was, staring at something on the navboard close to the pilot's seat. "Mind sharing this with the rest of the class" Jasyn insisted.

"It would appear..." Matt started, "...that we have suddenly acquired a fourth human life-sign aboard the ship."

"Oh Hell," Jasyn growled, springing to his feet and grabbing his blaster from his holster.

"Wait," Matt spoke up, "Maybe we should wait til we are on-planet to deal with this. There's not very far to go in here if trouble arises."

Jasyn fiddled with his blaster trigger thoughtfully, then turned and sat back down reluctantly. He looked towards the now-nearing planet of K'eel Doba, and to the sides where their escort remained.

And idea flashed into his mind.

"Matt," he spoke up then suddenly. "You might want to let our...

... escort know about our new...

... friend aboard the ship."

Matt turned a moment and eyed Jasyn thoughtfully, then nodded, turning back then to the navboard and reaching for the comm unit. "Yes," he replied then, "Maybe we should..."

But he did not. There was nothing, absolutly nothing, to show that this creature had been anywhere near this spot. He could sense it, though! The "scent" was right there, overpowering his mind, intoxicating his now-ravishing hunger. He should have been mere yards from his prey. Yet he could see no sign of it.

Exhausted, frustrated, and dispairing, Ragorian slumped to the ground. The exhaustion from Romanus' body, coupled with his own insane hunger for spirits, was eating away at him. He could see no way out of this trap, save death.No! he raged at himself. I have fought death for too long to let it catch me like this! This will not be the end for me! IT...WILL...NOT!

This last silent shout came with a scream of frustration from Romanus' mouth, and something more. An explosion of power from Ragorain's pent-up spirit, a manifestation of his rage and stubborness against death, of his will to live. This wave of energy came pouring out of every availible space it could find, Romanus' pores, throat, nose, and eyes. As it emerged, the land around it cracked and crumbled from the sheer force of it, shattered by Ragorian's pure will. Romanus' body, already exhausted fro mthe relentless pursiut and worn-out from Ragorian's use of it, slumped, barely able to contain this last explosion.

Shaking, Ragorian turned Romanus' head to look at the result. The land around him was crumbled, cracked, and haphazard, as if an eathquake had passed through. As he surveyed the scene, Ragorian's eye caught on something. At first glance it only seemed another ditch created from his burst of energy, but as he looked, he realized it was a hole. A hole, hidden underground, leading downward to some hiding place. Slowly, a smile crept across Romanus' battered face. Ragorain focused his senses into the hole, and to his delight, found it to be the source of the spirit's scent. He had finally found his prey.

Slowly, Ragorian raised Romanus' aching body to its feet, shambling down the hole, the smell, and his hunger, growing stronger with each step.

The hall had been apparently abandoned for many years, judging from the cobwebs and dust. However, Phalomir did see several boot tracks that could have been made within a few months. He carefully walked further into the grand entryway hall and marveled at the relics mounted on the wall, along with fine woven tapestries and brilliant sculptures of past heroes of the clan. There were also many bare places along the walls, as if several items had been removed, and several large shelves stood empty.

Phalomir reached the end of the hall and reached for the lone door. The tuk’ata outside gave a long mournful howl, freezing Phalomir’s hand just shy of the door. When the sound ceased he bowed his head slightly and pushed the door open gently. It gave with little force and Phalomir stepped through.

The door opened into a smaller, though still vast, hall. The remnants of a cooking ring lay in the near corner, and a torn fur was on the floor nearby. Phalomir entered into the center of the hall and looked around at other signs of life. It was obvious that someone had dwelled here after the temple’s abandonment, but not for some time.

A shuffle further down the hall caught his attention. He straightened and flashed the lights from his eyes in the direction of the sound. The light illuminated the figure of large man, standing over 6 feet tall, long flowing blond hair streaming down over the bright white robe he wore. Phalomir choked back his surprise and took a step towards the man.

“Who are you?” Phalomir asked.

“You know who I am,” replied the man, his voice sounding angelic in the echoes of the hall. “That is why you are here.”

“I do not know you,” said Phalomir. “How could I? I have never been to this temple.”

“Yet you know me nonetheless,” answered the man. “It is why you have come into my temple -- to issue the challenge. Are you worthy?”

Phalomir swallowed hard.

“Challenge? I seek no challenge. I seek only the Finger of R’lous.”

I could have been, though....

A smile quirks my lips as I behold this wide-eyed brethren of mine. The tattoos of clans lay silent on his face, quietly accusing me just for my non-being, I suppose, demanding something.... Well I know of what was spoken, even though the Others disdained the logic involved therein.

And lo, as though in answer to an unthought prayer, here he arrives... and speaks to a shade of what once was.

"The challenge is severe," I state in flat monotone, one the moment deserves, even though inwardly I sigh with relief so great as to bring the fringes of unwanted laughter to it. The clan shall not be forgotten, shall not stand alone, but shall unite to the whole in defense of the All. The Others, in their wisdom, were wrong.

I cock my head to one side, letting the soft white light flow from me, bathing this one and pushing away the shroud of darkness which I have lived within too long.

I blink.

"Can you take it from a shade? Can you wield the weaponry necessary? Can you defeat that which cannot die, that the Finger of R'lous shall recognize it's true Master?"

My eyes grow vague and turn inward then, and I stiffen. My mouth drops open to let forth hollow approximations some might yet call words.

"If Warrior you are, you know how to kill.

"If Sorcerer you are, then you have the skill."

I fall silent then, blinking back to something close to personal reality and I look at him. I smile then, letting him wonder at the mysteries of which I speak, while even as the words drip from my lips the answers dance so plainly before my eyes.

Yet in his greenness I see puzzlement. This shall never do, for though his vison is clouded mine sees with crystal clarity.

This is the One.

"Release me from this bondage, and take the Finger as your own."

I hold up an appendage pale with death yet scintillating with light, and smile upon both him and it.

And in particular upon that which now passes for what once was a hand.

He had not come here to kill anyone… especially one who seemed so dead already. Who was this man? This… human? No, something was strange… though this man appeared human, he had the feel of a Sith… of a Dark Lord… the Finger?

Phalomir stepped forward slowly, watching the hand the man had lifted, the index finger shaking and raised accusingly at Phalomir. Soft white light glowed from all around the man, though a strange dark shroud with the feel of death surrounded him in the distance, as if waiting. Another step, Phalomir drew closer still, close enough to catch the odor of years of decay, as if he had stepped suddenly into a dense forest during the hot, moldy season after the rains.

The man’s quick smirk betrayed his movement. His hand flinched and from nowhere appeared a strange cylindrical device with a long flat point at the end. Phalomir had time only to dive to his knees as a bright spark of electrical energy blasted forth from the end of the device, sailing over Phalomir’s head and sending something crashing to the floor in the distance behind him. A surge of innate magick leapt from Phalomir’s internal energies and as he rolled to his back a vivid shard of emerald materialized in his hands. He brought the strange mystical shard up like a sword, slicing the hand that wielded the device from the glowing man. The hand and item flew into the air, and as the man staggered a step backwards, Phalomir quickly stood and sliced the air savagely above the man’s shoulders.

The hand, still clutching the device, landed on the floor next to the wobbling man, whose eyes grew pale and distant. Phalomir’s hands trembled in readiness, but the man only allowed a slight smile to pass his lips, closed his eyes, and allowed his head to nod backwards, tumbling to the floor. The body still stood, then began to sway until could no longer support itself and it too toppled.

Phalomir stood, still ready, until he realized what had just transpired. He took a breath, the first in several moments, and the shard of energy dissipated. He fell to his knees and stared at the item in the clutch of the dead hand. At first it resembled a dagger, but the hilt was far too large and the blade more looked like a four-cornered spear tip. Red jewels lined the blade and hilt.

Phalomir cautiously reached for the item and slowly pried it from the dead fingers, which now seemed more than dead. He held the item in his own hands, and the body of the man slowly sank into the stone floor of the temple.

But in the end, there it is.

That portion of the Unity which shall bear out over all dissent... being that portion which shall give me surcease at last from eons of cycles of Lordship. For unknown to my brethren is that which has given the Dark Lordship of my clan its knowledge and strength, its artifice and its art. The weapons do not come merely from the mind and the heart and the soul, but from somewhere...

Other.

And it is this other my brethren had come close to commanding before, earlier, then, from whence I had come to not now, but before. Time, again, laughs with evil glee, but at long last I can burst out into my own refrain and laugh back into its face.

The Curse is lifted. It has passed to another. May he come to embrace the horrors of eternity as a lover.

I am sure he is wondering at the smile which lights my fading eyes as I succumb, at long and weary last, into the shadows, eyes which have enough spark to note his careful approach before the world tips topsy turvy and tumbles me toward blessed release.

But before all fades into everything I see the tattoo of my clan alight upon his forehead... and I know indeed I am truly blessed as he is now cursed. If nothing else, the beasts shall recognize this in him, and pay homage.

As once they did to me.

I've gone mad, simply.

Waiting no further, I take myself from my cozy perch to the warmth of the starship's engine bay.

With great ease, I orb in minimizing detection.

My palm surges with great power in which can only be described as a controlled plasma overload. With the agility of a Greek god, and the speed of force lightning, I strike the sub light propulsion like crackling of rumble and thunder.