Apparently Kelvendar had been a busy little bee of a Sith in his compliance to ShaRhylla's orders, for none of the warrior units under Graysith's Second, Salandaar, were anywhere close to the frozen spaceport.

Much less swarming about a peculiar ship in particular....

Most warriors remained at the ready, their spears and swords drawn and bristling, but a chosen few approached the strange ship in one tightly bound body. At a nod from the highest ranking Sith, they lay their weapons down upon the tarmac, quickly making a mystical symbol upon the cold ground out of their swords and spears, making certain that every point was aimed directly toward what they perceived to be the hatch of the mysterious ship. Then they drew back even further, joined hands and, closing their eyes began to chant.

The eerie sounds of mysticism clashed abruptly with the technologically advanced hull of the ship, but Sith weaponry always blended with its magicks...

Even when there were those who were not even aware that they were dealing with things of Sith nature.

The hatch slid obligingly open; the warriors carefully picked up their weapons, taking care to do so in the direct opposite order in which they had been laid down.

Then they turned to the others and nodded, receiving a nod of affirmation from the captains. Soon about fifty warriors were swarming the ship, gaining entry via their magickally opened hatchway, while the others tightened their positions as well as their grips upon their weapons.

Within the ship, the leading warrior came upon a sight so unexpected it made him pause in mid-march:

There, standing quietly together as if there wasn't a thing wrong in all the universe, stood a blond-haired young woman and a Sith.

A Sith.... and a warrior to boot, judging by the tattooes embellishing his features.

Behind them they could make out a shadowy cylindrical shape, something that was strange in its unfamiliarity.

The warrior tightened his grip on his weapon, and glared at Shayla and Panthar. He had his orders....

"Place your hands where we can see them, and come with me!"

Waiting for a reply, he motioned to the others, who quickly ran past the little party and headed into the bowels of the ship, seeking to find anyone they could, to imprison them per the command of the young Dark Lady pro temp. Their footsteps pounded into the shadows, preceding their arrival, warning anyone who might be hiding that their masters were soon to be there.

Perhaps the warriors did not recognize them. After all, there were alot of warriors...

...and not so many of them. Still, something didn't seem quite right about all this...

"We come with intentions only for peace," Shayla began. Then, "The Dark Lady has been kidnapped..."

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

Not that the latter was really of any great concern of hers; she was, after all, her father's daughter. Thus she tried to mimic the strength she perceived he had exuded with every breath, the dark wisdom and knowledge he had held, adhering to her memories of Dark Lord Roan like a granite slug adheres to the buildings of the Lower Levels of Coruscant.

Deep within her soul, however, twin entities were at war with one another: her own self-perceptions, based upon how she thought she should be viewed in the eyes of Roan, rising in battle with the flailing, whimpering child that she really was.

She shook her head, roughly dismissing her reveries, and looked to Mask.

"I am impressed with your shape-shifting abilities, my friend," she said silkily, setting her goblet down and looking directly at him from beneath her lashes.

"Perhaps we can use the arrival of this ship to our advantage:

"Is it within your abilities to board her without being seen by my warriors, and take on the appearance of my mother...

"My dead mother?"

[ 04-25-2005 09:29 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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He focused for a moment and crushed his body to the ground, hardly a foot high, his body taking on the texture of the ground below him as he slid, snakelike, across the ground towards the space port, until he was just out of sight, once again changing. He now took a form of a large bird-like creature, the color of the sky and swooped towards the sky, winging up above the ship to alight onto it's top gently. "Where to make an entry? Oh, for where would be a most theatrical location for such a worshipped and beloved ex-ruler to be fallen? Of course.... where any "heroine" would make a last stand!" he chuckled, slowly sliding over the top of the ship towards the bridge, searching for a vent port or entry hatch.....

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

She stopped before it, relishing the heat of the dancing flames against her face, and looked up to the glistening sword she had hung there.

"My dear Ragorian," she breathed along the link she maintained with him.

"It has begun."

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

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

Concentrating for a few moments his horns bent forwards and he gouged a hole into the venting and slipped in quietly, shrinking his body as he crept to the aft of the ship, and the bridge. He looked about, then went to the main sigil pannel and shifted into Graysith, making sure once again no one was watching.

He moved some of his neck muscles and formed another breathing tube, then caused his throat to tear open as though sawed by a blade, letting some of his own blood spill out to slash over the console before clotting himself and laying limp over the console.

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

It did not take one long to discover the horrific scene spilled out over the bridge... nor did his widening eyes miss the quiet form of the unconscious Dark Lord.

He paused only long enough to make certain that the latter was not as dead as his Mistress before he turned and ran pell-mell back to the warriors confronting Shayla and Panthar.

"The Dark Lady, she is dead!" he cried as he came to a halt long enough to salute; then whirling, he added his own pike to those focused upon the unlikely pair.

"Murdered in most foul a manner, more than likely by the actions of these two, although why a Sith would stoop to such degradation is beyond my understanding!"

Having spent much of his anger and dismay in this outburst, he then continued on, quickly describing the details of how he had found the body.

"And, there is more... there is a Lord.. a Dark Lord, unconscious nearby..."

No more needed to be said. The ranking Sith glared at Shayla and Panthar, then barked an order. Two of the warriors accompanying him bowed briefly, then moved off with the other; it was not long before they returned with the apparent body of their Dark Lady draped between them.

It would have taken a particularly discerning eye to see the touch of offhandedness with which they handled the body....

"Take them away, and imprison them!" the ranking Sith ordered, watching as his men scooped up Shayla and Panthar in a network of spikes and prodded them forth from the ship. Moments later, the rest of the searching warriors came to report: nothing else was found of any import, other than that a few had likewise found the unconscious Phalomir. They came along, carrying his massive body between them, grunting a bit with its weight.

The ranking Sith watched with narrowed eyes as all departed the ship before him; then, casting a final glance about, he too left, leaving the hatch opened haphazardly in his wake. It mattered not; a contingency of his men would remain behind, guarding the ship like hawks.

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

"If it appears to be anything of value, bring it to the Lady ShaRhylla," he called back.

"She might find it of some amusement; the girl shall be needing some lightness in her life, now that both her parents are dead...

"...and her burdens as our new Dark Lady have only begun..."

He growled and wrapped his arms around the pod and lifted it from the deck, then called out too a few sith to aid him, another warrior comming to help him carry the pod towards the temple.

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

“What?!” he exclaimed as he was brutally manhandled. He barely noticed the warriors binding his hands behind his back as he tried to look to Shayla. “But she was gone! I didn’t see her there!”

He was spun around and pushed forward. He stumbled but caught his footing.

“Oh dear gods,” he moaned. “What happened on that ship?”

He turned to the nearest Sith warrior.

“Please, we must speak to Salaandar!”

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

"Silence!" he growled, then continued on his way, now shoving the blunt non-bladed end of his pike into the middle of Panthar's back. He pushed with all his force, grinning to see his prisoner stumble, arms flailing, face bleeding all over the cobbled stones of the capitol city of the Sith.

Soon they reached the Temple, where they mounted the outer series of steps. Gaining the apex, the prisoners were forced across the courtyard there, bypassing stone benches and softly-flowered trees in their short march to the opening into the Temple proper.

Through a surprisingly small doorway, they entered into a large room that looked to be part corridor, part foyer. The hulking shadows of great stone pillars stood about like so many stone giants, holding up their portion of the immense Temple of the Warriors of the Sith.

Through those stone columns they passed, but did not enter into the ornately carved double doors at the far end of the foyer. Instead, about one hundred yards shy of it, they were brusquely shoved to one side, toward a smaller wooden door. It lay there against the stone walls, oily and dark, seeming to grin to itself about all the secrets it had seen in the mysterious depths it held behind its back.

The warriors merely opened the door, and pushed Shayla and Panthar through. On and on they went, down corridors now growing dank and damp, fuzzed with writhing vines and hideous mosses, down stairs slick with condensation and worn by the passage of many feet.

At last they came to a particularly odious-looking door. One of the warriors opened it creakily...

...and Shayla and Panthar were shoved roughly therein.

"Rot in hell, murderers!" he spat.

Then slamming the door closed, he shot the bolt, locked the chain, turned and left them to their fate, alone in the dark, dismal dungeon deep in the bowels of the temple.

Meanwhile, it was the unconscious Dark Lord who had been taken to the brand-new Dark Lady, where he was dumped with a gesture just shy of pure uncaring roughness upon the couch.

"M'lady," the Sith bowed to the somewhat startled halfling, who was scarcely expecting this.

Then, saluting respectfully, the warriors backed from the room altogether and left her alone with her quarry.

"Indeed, my dear mistress," he replied in a silky purr. "So it has. The wheels are now moving. Soon your ambitions will be realized, milady. Soon the trials will surely begin. And when they do, know, my dear Lady ShaRhylla, that I shall be at your side, ready to give whatever aid I may."

"Now, milady, tell me please, what aid can Ragorian now offer you? What would you have me do now that your ambitions are set in motion? For eager indeed am I to begin, dear Mistress ShaRhylla."

[ 04-25-2005 11:26 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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First the sounds of steadily marching feet came to our ears, sounds I really had been expecting all along. I mean, weren't we being boarded? And didn't pirates -- ok, whatever you want to call whoever it was that came along without so much as a by your leave and ran rampant throughout your ship!-- search those ships as they boarded?

What did come as a total surprise, however, were the shouts and yells that rapidly ensued, followed quickly by the change in cadence of those pounding feet.

Suddenly the light in the doorway of our storage chamber was blocked, and limned therein were the forms of two or three Sith warriors. Although I knew we were invisible, I held my breath anyway.

Oh Khaandon, I hope their magicks aren't what they're supposedly cracked up to be! Maybe that's why they respected my sister so much--

My idly blathering thoughts were abruptly severed as one of the warriors stepped into the room. The wicked looking pike he held seemed to be about four hundred feet long, armed with teeth that snapped and bit viciously in my direction.

It shrank to normal proportions then, as his second step was truncated by further shouts in the distance. He paused only to take another quick glance about himself before turning back to his fellows with a nod.

"This room is clear; let us go determine what the commotion is all about."

The pounding of feet muted with distance, and soon all that could be heard was the ever-present sounds of cricket noises.

I dared to breathe again.

"I-- I think it's safe," I whispered. "Stick with me; I'm leaving the belt activated."

With that we seemed to come to some sort of ungainly agreement, and began moving along together as though tied by short strings of fear. It didn't take us long to reach the last corridor... the one which ended in the open hatch.

That hatch stood deceptively open, a sliver of light coming in from the outside to partially illuminate the gloom.

I jumped as a pair of Sith brushed by, carrying some sort of object between them...

The bacta tank! Maybe our plan was working, Khaandon be with us...?

A full five minutes passed before I dared motion the others forward, taking hold of Terrin's hand in the meanwhile in silent apology for my take-charge actions.

We crept to the open hatch... and stared down at the horde of Sith who ringed the ship. Some were standing at battle ready, others lounged like sandcats after a full meal.

I shot a look to the others.

"I don't think they can see us; do you want to case out the ship, or leave?" I asked, every muscle tense as a piano string, just asking for the release of running for my life.

[ 04-25-2005 11:44 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Galen ]

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But behind those eyes Phalomir’s spirit was alive.

Phalomir sat, legs crossed under him, on a velvet cushion. The room around him was draped in red curtains, and as he looked around he noticed no doors or windows. When his eyes returned to the spot in front of him, sitting on a cushion before him was an elderly Sith in worn robes.

“Am I dead?” asked Phalomir.

“Only as dead as you would wish,” came the reply.

“Then where am I?” Phalomir asked, an eyebrow rising.

“Your mind contains many secrets, and many answers. You will someday discover these truths. But now you are faced with decisions most foul, and dangers that bear no equal. For now, you are recovering from the attack. Do you know who I am?”

Phalomir thought a moment, then recognition crept into him.

“The Eye?” he asked. The old Sith smiled.

“I live within her, I shall protect her as best I can. But he will take her to his home, to the heart of all that is dark. The Dark Hall awaits you, and you cannot face him alone. You know what you must do, look inside your heart and face your destiny.”

“My—what, what am I to do?” stumbled Phalomir. The old Sith smiled and pointed to his left to the figure of Jharmeen, silently trying to mouth words.

Phalomir gasped, drawing in a long breath. He sat upright in a flurry.

“My lady!” he cried out, reality slowly edging its way into his mind. The vision of Jharmeen cleared, leaving the smiling figure of a female in its wake. He blinked several times, then cleared his throat.

“Where am I?” he asked.

[ 04-25-2005 11:43 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

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She was letting a particularly close tendril of herself coil seductively into Ragorian when she was rudely interrupted by the appearance of several warriors. Murmuring apologies, they entered into the Dining Hall, and therein dumped the limp body of a Sith.

A Dark Lord.

Nearly upon their heels came Kelvendar with another warrior, bearing a bacta tank between them. They manhandled it into the Dining Hall, where they placed it against a far wall before bowing and taking a place in the shadows.

The halfling moved to the bacta tank, stared into it's depths, her eerily two-toned eyes narrowing to see the dim outline of... something floating there in its depths.

Returning to Ragorian, she poured herself out to him.

"What is this strangeness?" she queried.

"Do you know of it?"

Her questions were interrupted by movements on the couch; moaning, the Dark Lord was coming awake. Moving like a lithe and hungry carnivore, she was soon by the couch, but not without first going to the fireplace and taking the Sword into her deceptively delicate hand.

"My consort, your assistance. How do I stand against a Dark Lord? This is unexpected...."

But to Phalomir, she showed no such weakness. With all her might she swung the Blade, slapping the flat of it against his broad chest.

"Enough senseless blather!" she cried imperiously, shifting it in her hand to attack mode.

"You are in the presence of the Dark-- of the acting Dark Lady of the Warriors of the Sith; have you no manners to guide your actions in her presence?"

[ 04-26-2005 12:03 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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Holding the blade to his side and towering high above the halfling, he slowly realized he was in the dining hall. His confusion mingled with the growing alertness and sensation of dread.

“Where is Jharmeen?” he demanded. “And the others?”

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

He quickly sent his own reply the ShaRhylla's query.

"So this is the Dark Lord of the Armorers; this is Phalomir. This one i have met before, though briefly."

"I would advise you not to underestimate him, dear Lady, but also not to fear him overmuch. True, he may be a Dark Lord of the Sith, but he is one warrior, wheras you, milady, command your own might of both Sith Magick and the powerful All. In addition, you also ahve at your side all the magick power of Ragorian, every bit I can muster, and, I would assume ,the powers of T'elion and the Finger of R'lous as well."

"Therefore, I would think that with our combined strength we could indeed hope to stand against this Dark Lord. Indeed, would he truly be able to stand against us?"

Pausing a moment, he observed that the flat of his blade was resting against the palm of this powerful Sith.

"Now, milady, he continued to ShaRhylla, "As the Dark Lord is now in physical contact with my blade, I could enter within him, walk within his mind. While I would more than likely not have the strength to control him, I do not doubt I could learn more behind the powers, ambitions, and thoughts of this Dark Lord. If you would but give the command, I shall go."

Within himself, Ragorian felt the dark excitement within him began to rise and spread like a slow-kindling flame. This would, it seemed, be the first real test of his abilities against another in some time, and Ragorian was surprised to find that he looked forward to it. Indeed, he relished to opportunity. Chuckling darkly, he spoke to ShaRhylla yet again.

"And know that I stand ready to face this Dark Lord with you, my dear Lady ShaRhylla."

[ 04-26-2005 12:16 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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"Go, my dear consort," she sent silkily into the mind of He Whom She Had Chosen, impressed by his quick assessment and the calm assurance of his reply.

"Seek the truth..."

Her hand tightened, as if to draw strength from the Blade. But it was not within her grasp; knowing that he went with her full blessing and desire, she then turned her mind to the threat of the Dark Lord...

A threat which burst like a balloon in the wake of the words of her own Chosen One.

"Jharmeen?" she queried innocently, cocking her head in perplexion and going so far as to stick a finger in her mouth in mockery.

"Oh... you mean Mother.

"She is long gone, who knows where, gadding about while I am left to deal with threats to our people, is this, I ask you, such a manner in which a true Dark Lady must behave?

"To think--"

Whatever comment she was to make was suddenly nipped in the proverbial bud as the ranking Sith Captain she had sent forth to the spaceport appeared in the suddenly opened door to the Dining Hall. Noting the Dark Lord, who stood incongruously enough before the flaming ShaRhylla, the flat of a sword held between his hands, he rushed in to both defend and inform.

Coming between the pair, he drew his sword and spoke...

...but his words were meant for the Lady.

"My Lady, I bear terrible news.

"Your mother is dead, murdered in a manner most foul, her throat cut; the occupants of the ship which bore her body here languish in our dungeons even as I speak.

"Your command, my Lady?"

He turned his head to ShaRhylla and bowed to her, if not in actuality then by the manner in which his words were spoken.

Carefully feigned shock flooded her face.

For a moment she stood, weaving a bit from side to side. Then--

"Mother-rr-rrr!" she yowled in her own brand of mockery, even as that seductive tendril of her being reached out in triumph to Ragorian.

[ 04-26-2005 12:40 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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...Pausing, as he did, to take note of the words the Sith guard were speaking. He chuckled amusedly to himself as his mistress' delightful use of the shapeshifter was put into play, and the chuckle turned into an outright laugh at ShaRhylla's well-acted burst of despair, so opposed to the tendril of her triumph that coursed through Ragorian. He had a moment to send through her a tendril of his own satisfaction and delight at this development, then his attention was drawn away as part of his spirit entered the Dark Lord's mind.

Of course, he had been cautious about choosing an arrival point. he had not been doing this for over two centuries to be now caught unawares. He alighted silently in a dark, unused corner of the Dark Lord's mind, one to which his attention towards his own mind did not reach. Pausing a moment, he wound tendrils of his own self back to the part of him left in his blade, strengthening the connection between them so that he would have a quick escape route if danger arose.

After all, he was dealing with a Dark Lord.

As soon as his escape route was secure, Ragorian turned his attention to the mind he had now silently invaded.This Dark Lord's mind is a strong one, he thought to himself. And even more vast and mysterious than I expected. Control would be far too difficult to assert, if it even were to be possible. As such, my aim shall be to avoid detection. I shall simply learn as much as possible about this Dark Lord, this Phalomir.

His plan of action was firmly set in his mind, Ragorian set off moving slowly and cautiously, begining to venture into the vast halls the mind of Phalomir, Dark Lord of the Armorers.

[ 04-26-2005 12:59 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Blade of Chaos ]

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"How dare you!" she gulped, letting fire and fury and rage and betrayal flood into her voice, carrying her words to him.

"How dare you come here, land here, carrying aboard your ship the remains of my poor mother--"

She choked to a halt, knowing her theatrics were allowed full vent, knowing she was perfectly safe. For after all, warriors loyal to her stood nearby, and hadn't she had the powers to command of which Ragorian had spoken?

So she allowed herself a bit of of display, to cover up her questing into Ragorian's dark mind.

"Tell me, my consort: have you discovered anything of importance in the mind of this one?" she questioned, all the while keeping up her carefully and skillfully maintained facade.

[ 04-26-2005 01:06 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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We looked beyond and spied the cause of the female wailing, and saw one of the companions, the most familiar one too us, Phalomir. "What is the cause of her distress?" We spoke out towards him.

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

...and by something she thought to be a mere...

Thing.

But this thing was apparently alive, or at least sentient. Being carried to her as it had been from the mystery ship only made her even more wary of it, now that it was actually speaking.

It is only a droid, a portion of her mind tried to soothe her with, but she would have none of it. Such a quickly determined assumption could easily ruin her carefully growing plans; without waiting any further her hand shot out toward the bacta tank as she called upon the All to assist her.

Immediately the molecules of air above the tank vacated to either side of it, creating a veritable sliver of a vaccuum which outlined its length and reached upward perhaps ten meters.

Physics promptly obeyed... at least a directionally nudged form of it. The bacta tank began to rise quickly upward, pushed by the denser air which lay beneath it.

It stopped ten meters from the floor and hovered there like some kind of odd balloon.

"What manner of trickery is this?" ShaRhylla spat, whirling back to Phalomir, her visage darkening even more as she spoke.

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

Jharmeen was dead.

Everything he had lived for, his very existence, everything… It all centered around her. And now she was gone. It must have been the Master, Phalomir’s very father… He had attacked with some sort of draining energy, leaving Phalomir powerless to react. But then the bastard had killed her. Who knows what he done with Shayla, Panthar, Galen, and the others.

He vaguely remember the Eye, as if in a dream, telling him something of a Dark Hall. What could that be? Jharmeen seemed to be there, imprisoned. If she were dead, then perhaps her spirit was trapped there, somewhere in the Darker Realms, with the Master, and…

Roan.

‘Mother?’

The girl had said ‘Mother’…

Phalomir looked down at the girl, noticing for the first time her halfling features. She had the face of Jharmeen, interspersed with something else, something recognizable…
HIM.

Anger swelled within him. Phalomir felt something niggling in the back of his mind, as if some alien force was rooting around in his mind. He felt his powers rise, and as his eyes flashed a brilliant red he noticed also the device hanging from the girl’s belt, and his anger grew even more.

With a furious growl, he threw the sword across the hall, embedding it into the wall. His other arm swung out, catching the warrior off guard and knocking him to the floor. The arm that swung the sword flung out towards the girl’s throat, stopping just short of its mark and trembling in the air. One more jerk of his wrist and the girl's neck would be snapped. Hot red eyes bore into Sharylla’s very soul.

“Your mother meant more to me than anything else in this galaxy”, Phalomir ground out between his teeth. “And I will not let that demon spawn Roan have her. I will venture into the very heart of Hell to bring her back, and you will help me.”

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