"Of that there shall be no doubt." I said with a smile, taking the work of art I was too wear from her grasp, and donning it with a gentle grace borne of my past body.

I took a moment too glance in the mirror across the room, too examine the sith I saw, unable too believe that it truely was I. "Marvelous.." I said as I saw her caught in the reflection beside me.

"Oh, kriffing Hell!" Terrin growled as he instinctively wrapped arms about Galen in protection, infuriated with the prospect of a third party in the shower with them...

...and especially a third party demon.

"Can't you give a man and his wife a little warning before you...

...pop up?"

Stretching an arm out then, Terrin reached for the knobs which controlled the shower heads, turned them off...

...and gathered the fluffy awaiting linens to wrap about Galen and himself. Then he eyed the demon again irritably. "You really must learn the art of timing. I think whatever it is you have to share can wait just a few minutes...

...a few minutes which we require to dress... alone."

Emphasis on the final word very evident, Terrin didn't move, his final statement clearly more than a simple suggestion.

The imp paused, reflecting on the additional orders it was given, not wanting to carry them out. It deicided to wait to reveal what it know, it had started to like Panthar, and it owed him that much.

A sound that Erik wasn't quite certain of, perhaps knocking on the door or the actual closing of a door, jarred Erik from what was, quite honestly, an uneasy sleep. Opening his brown eyes wearily, he eyed the couch which should have held Panthar...

...only to find it vacated. Immediately disturbed by this, Erik sat up, being careful not to wake Shayla. He succeeded...

...and she slumbered on, the look on her face totally at peace. Erik frowned a bit.

Fates, but how does she do that?

Turning from the thought, however, Erik got to his feet, scanned their suites for Panthar without success, and then headed for the door, at first a bit hesitantly. After all, things had gone so awry the evening before, and Shayla had been fairly perturbed by it.

But with Shayla's observations regarding the relationship between looks of Panthar's wound and that Thing from the Darker Realms, Erik couldn't just sit back. So he stepped outside their room, and didn't have to wander all that far before he found Panthar stumbling through the hallways. It actually didn't take Erik much effort to stop the man in the Sith's body, he was so off balance.

Which made Erik even more concerned.

"I wonder when or where everyone is going to meet?" he queried then, realizing that no specific time or place had been set the evening before.

Lack of planning. How kriffing annoying...

Saying nothing further at that, however, Terrin moved to get back into the Sith flightsuit Galen had helped him procure aboard the Sith fighter they had last flown in. She too garbed herself, and in no time they were both quite more presentable for public viewing than before...

...and in attire comfortable enough that Terrin decided he could get quite used to wearing it...

No matter how much Dad had scoffed at science fiction holo-vids, with their penchant toward cross-species attraction.

"Not feasible," he would laughingly point out as yet another incomprehensible creature from who knows where decided that the charming heroine was just the one in the entire universe that he wanted to perpetuate his species with.

I shuddered, looking around for Fido's peepers, but didn't see them. So finally, scowling a bit and grumbling, I finished dressing, turning an ear Terrin's way as I wrapped my Sith belt about myself.

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding emphatically as I came up to Terrin's side.

"He sure is adamant enough about offing ShaRhylla, that's for certain."

She's your niece, Galen. Remember that--

I shuddered again, images of the last encounter Terrin and I had with ShaRhylla in the Darker Realms, followed by the "lesser" one of Sorben getting blasted at her dainty little white hand flashing to mind.

I don't care if she's the Queen of Naboo; maybe the imp is right, maybe she needs to be offed at that--

My attention was drawn away from such dark thoughts by Terrin's final question.

"Umm--" I said in prelude, reaching up to kiss the lobe of his ear before turning away toward the door.

"I dunno; I suppose we can wait here until she sends someone for us. Sissypoops does so dearly love to do that sort of thing; however--"

I paused at the door as I leapt onto another track altogether.

And young women do not take kindly to playing second fiddle to somebody else's clothing, particularly when they have gone to great lengths in making themselves as attractive as possible.

"Take a care; it takes more than robes of state to fill the position," she stated in borderline anger. Then she swept out from Rykounagin's side, a wave of one hand opening her door to allow her egress from her rooms.

"Perhaps you did not interpret what I said correctly, for it was not my new broadened and heightened frame that filled the mirror." I said in a plainer, more audible voice.

"For, though it is not the robes that fill the position, in your case that would substitute quite nicely." I chuckled and with good humor, walked up too walk alongside her.

They moved on toward the Dining Hall, Rykounagin stating his words, she struggling to interpret them correctly, wondering to herself why it would matter that they were interpreted correctly, indeed, wondering why she wanted to impress him and had been angry when she felt she had not.

She felt a light touch as he took her elbow, escorting her in a manner most gentlemanly, making inquiry as to dining arrangements.

"It is not proper for a Lady to demean her Lord by appearing to be a hag in his presence," she finally stated, tripping over the oddly expressed words she was uttering even while that something black and noisome on her soul rose up to berate her for it. Fighting against both, she stared down at the floor.

"Just as it is not proper for a Lord to demean his Lady by ignoring her efforts in the matter."

The words were straight from her teaching in Temple etiquette.

The stones of the corridor disappeared, returned as she blinked. Then she raised her head, cut a quick embarrassed sort of glance to Rykounagin, returned her eyes stonily ahead once again.

"I know that I perhaps did not openly display my approval of your appearance, but I do indeed." I said as we trod upon the stones.

"But I also wish you too be less conflicted. I want you too take more liberties in the fact that I do not understand many of the sith ways yet, nor do I approve of some of the smaller points." As I spoke, I watched for her reaction, whether it be ponderous or angry at my suggestion that the sith ways could be flawed.

"Perhaps it is my folly that I find some of the traditions too be out of date -in my breeding as an imperfect specimen of sithdom- but I still find some things too be truely illogical."

Abruptly then she grasped the sides of the gown she wore, pulled it out on either side until she stood before him as though draped in the sweeping shades of star-studded night.

"Your true appreciation of that which you are receiving shall go a long ways toward making this relationship-- tolerable," she said, glowering. Then she released the rich fabric, letting it fall once more in thick, enveloping folds about her slender frame.

One hand lifted, exposing her strangely altered Tattoo of Entitlement to his eyes.

"By this union--"

Suddenly she paused, her eyes widening as though a thought was striking her at that very instant. A thought, and idea, a memory...

A distant whisper...

She shivered briefly, blinking. Then she forged on as if nothing untoward had happened.

"By this union, we represent something unique in the history of the Sith. For Entitlement has always been passed down from father to son, who then takes a wife into his house. Or, occasionally, a daughter has taken a consort, to serve as husband and Lord to her Dark Ladyship.

"But with us--"

She paused again, letting her hand slowly drift down to lay, pale and trembling, against her dress.

"We unite two Houses within the Clanship, both-- both having claim, now together as one."

Now in pausing she closed her eyes, as if that incorporeal voice were now whispering directions into her ears.

"The offspring of this union will be undeniable--"

Her eyes flew open, her old haughty air now filling them.

"It would behoove you to remember the honor being bestowed upon you!"

I however, did not speak my thoughts at her indignation. It appeared however that in my attempts too be more compassionate, I was annoying her even further. Stubborn is the Nerf that was never broken.

However, as I looked too what she was staring at, even my normal thoughts were... thrown askew.

"Ragorian..." I breathed, taking a single step towards the place at which it hung. Though I dispised the sorcerer who inhabited the ancient blade, it was at the same time that I felt a nostalgia; almost a longing for the simpler days when I knew not the consequences of what I could do.

I stared for another moment, lost in my reverie, then at the faint sound of poured and delivered brandy, I snapped myself from it, and looked too my bride.

“Your loyal Lady in Waiting has been at work, my lady,” Phalomir said as Jharmeen stepped though the portal. The light from the wall globes danced with fire along her hair, and Phalomir caught himself holding his breath as he watched her. He inhaled quickly, raising his eyebrows and grinning at his moment of wonder.

“And as much as I hate to point it out,” he smiled, “our clothing awaits us.”

He slipped into his black silk pants and shirt, tying a black belt around his waist. His boots were also waiting for him, and he pulled them onto his feet. The silk felt good against his skin and brought memories of feeling… stately.

“This attire reminds of a time when I was less an adventurer and more of a statesman,” he said, pulling on the last boot. “When all my worries were dealt with which mage was assigned to which duty, how many places to set for the visiting Warriors, and other banal trivialities of a time when the Sith were at peace with themselves and the galaxy.”

He paused, realizing something.

“My lady,” he said. “Some of my memories… I think they have returned. I can remember…”

He looked to Jharmeen, his eyes lighting.

“Summer days by the sea… state dinners, visits from foreign dignitaries… reports from the outer rims of strange attacks by an unknown terrible force… my lady, I remember when they gave me these…”

He indicated the designs on his face.

“My lady,” he said soberly. “The spiders walk up and down the tree, attending to their own world. They are unaware of outside influences until it is too late, and fight the battles they can. We are those spiders, all of us. We as the Sith, we lead our people and build our race. But the spiders are more than he Sith, they are the Bothans, the Wookies, the Fallanassi, even the Empire… everyone in our galaxy. We all move up and down our trees, minding our own lives, not caring…”

He straightened and stood.

“But you and I know what is outside the tree, and it is coming to chop it down. And that is why I am here. The Vong are coming.”

“There’s something I have to do,” he said. “I just can’t remember it. It’s annoying, like something really important, but all I want to do right now is go eat.”

He scratched his head.

“We were at the bar, right? And I was there because I saw ShaRylla and that one guy go in there… and there were these two Sith guys… dang, I wish I could remember.”

He turned and staggered back down the hall some more, Erik following irritably. He paused again, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, I give up.”

His head quit spinning immediately, and he straightened. He turned to look at Erik once more.

“Wow, that was strange,” he said. “The dizziness is gone, just like that. Hey, cool.”

He looked behind Erik, seeing nothing.

"She's...fine," he responded, still not at ease with Panthar asking about Shayla in such an offhanded manner. It was almost as if...

...he knew something? Erik frowned, continuing with, "She's sleeping soundly, strangely enough. She must be worn down from having to do so much healing yesterday."

Erik wondered who he was trying to convince regarding Shayla still sleeping. Panthar, or himself. After all, Shayla's gift was healing, and she usually bounced back from the effort it cost her rather easily.

Something was very funny about all this.

...or whatever the Sith equivelent of that would be."

"She's a big girl, I think she'll come along when she wants. Besides, she's lived here and knows her way around; I'm sure that if she wants breakfast, she'll be joining us.

"And as for whatever meeting we all end up having afterward, well--" I paused a moment to reflect.

"I don't really think it's her place to be in it... and I don't know if I want her getting involved in something she might not have to."

I sent a little smile Terrin's way, took his proffered arm, and headed out.

Panthar blinked, snapping out of the strange image that had blasted into his thoughts. He staggered backwards, suddenly very frightened of what had just happened, and wondering if Erik had felt it. He backed into the hallway wall and put a hand to his head.

“Erik,” he started, “I think there is—“

A sharp pain blasted through his head, making him wince and lose the ability to speak. He suddenly felt an overpowering urge to get away from the Jedi, to find the dining hall, and sit alone in a corner. He could do nothing but obey this impulse. He waved off Erik and padded quickly down the hall.

"You think there is what?!?" he growled. "You think there is something wrong?"

Pausing, Erik eyed the bandage Panthar was still holding up partially with his uninjured hand. Usually soaked with purple blood, the bandage was eeriely without blemish.

Something shot up and down Erik's spine, and he backed off. "I...I'm going to check on Shayla..."

Again he trailed, this time stretching out with the Force, which he hadn't dared to do since his little ordeal in the Darker Realms. "She seems so very still in the Force..." he muttered to himself, his eyes defocusing.

I scarcely had time to gasp as said shadow bumped into me without seeming to notice, sending me slamming up against Terrin and in turn shoving him into the wall. But although the shadow quite obviously gave us no notice, I didn't have that problem.

"Erik-?" I asked, gulping out his name in a little gasp. Whether he didn't hear me or was choosing to ignore me was moot; he just kept up his fast pace, his trajectory appearing to head back into the guest quartered area of the temple.

I looked up at Terrin, my eyes wide. Shrugged.

Then moved on down the corridor, turning round the corner Erik had come from, and coming to another involuntary halt when I saw no one other but Panther, huddled farther down the corridor, leaning against the wall, his shoulders slumped.

I frowned at his obvious distress, and quickly moved from Terrin's side.

"Hey, Big Red," I said as I came up behind him to place a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"What's up? Is there something the matter? You don't look so hot, although I'll admit I'm no early bird myself, and having to get up--"

His hand went to his head, and he tried to straighten himself.

“I—I’m not sure,” he said, grimacing. “I keep getting these sudden headaches. I, um, I think I need some food or something, that’s what I keep thinking about. I’m trying to find the dining hall…”

Panthar’s head cleared immediately. He stood, lowered his hand, and shrugged.

“Wow, now it’s gone.”

He smiled at Galen and Terrin.

“Must be the company,” he smiled. “I hope Erik is all right, he said something about Shayla not being strong in the force and took off. I don’t know what the heck that means.”

Especially since the bandage I saw him hurriedly wadding into his robes appeared as clean as the driven snow.

I frowned, shot Terrin a concerned glance.

"Are you sure you're ok?" I pressed, hesitantly but insistently. I took another small step closer to him so as to read his face better.

"I mean, Erik is a jedi; I can go get him, maybe he can come back and give you some kind of healing whammy or something--"

The remainder of Panthar's words struck home them, and I switched rontos in mid-stream.

"What did he mean, 'Shayla was weak in the force?'"

I turned questioning stares in both directions, for although I had picked up a smattering of knowledge concerning this weird power darling Sissypoops and her even more charming daughter wielded, said power which some persisted in believing I held a modicum of sway over, not that I believed that for a moment--

“I’m fine, really,” he said. He began to say “too fine” but a sharp pain started in his head. He suppressed the thought and the pain stopped. He felt a sudden concern about this, and again the pain started. He cleared his mind and the pain stopped.

He looked from Galen to Terrin, his face void of expression.

“I don’t know what he meant,” he said. “He was having some Jedi moment or something, but all I can say is that I have got to eat something really soon or else I’m going to be sick. That’s all I can think of right now without getting a headache.” He emphasized the last sentence.

There was a pause, then the pain blasted through him once more, briefly, as if in warning. He winced, then recomposed himself.

“So, I am going to the dining hall right now, to keep this headache from coming back.”

"I dunno," I ventured at length, giving Terrin a meaningful nudge.

"Maybe we'd better go get that Jedi after all, or better yet--"

I stopped, pursing my lips a moment before continuing.

"I bet Jharmeen can help you; Terrin, you go with him in case he needs a stronger hand than I have to lend. I'm gonna go get Sissy."

With that I shoved Terrin in Panthar's general direction and departed, hastening quickly back along the direction from which we had come, for I knew the corridor leading to the private areas of the Temple intersected the one we were currently traversing, albeit perhaps farther into the bowels of this ancient and august place.

I didn't really care. It just meant that I had to hurry all that much faster, didn't it?

He felt the approach of Erik, coming quickly down the hallway. The Jedi was weak, but his Force signature emanated well enough to be noticed.

“Remember, my dear,” he said to the sleeping Shayla. “There is a difference between evil and darkness. Take care whom you believe, and with whom you side. Love is as strong as hate, and sometimes just as dangerous.”

His subliminal message planted deep within her subconscience, he stepped back through the portal and vanished with it, leaving no other trace of his presence.

All the while a frown formed on his face in relation to the thoughts now blossoming in his mind.

"Panthar..." he started, trying to figure out just how to say what he was thinking, "Don't you find it a bit odd that your head only hurts when you are not heading for the Dining Hall? I mean..."

He trailed a moment. "I've seen enough weirdness to know that something of this nature almost sounds like some sort of mind control, and somehow..."

Again he paused, his look darkening further, "Someone really wants you to get to the Dining Hall? Someone controlling you somehow?"

Falling silent for a moment, Terrin let the question hang. Then he ended with, "Hey, did Jharmeen heal your hand, cause the Force that Erik and Shayla use sure doesn't work that fast..."

Panthar stopped.

All bother.

Panthar felt an ire rising within him, and heard the faint whispers of a voice in his mind. He had a sudden flashback to the strange days when he held Phalomir’s essence within him, when a voice first spoke within him. And although this voice was different, the same chills sprang up his backside.

These insignificant slugs, running about their lives as if their actions somehow mattered, as if the grand scheme somehow included them. Never in their wildest dreams could they comprehend the absurdity of that notion. Quite humorous, indeed. Ahh, but perhaps that is why these pathetic beings are allowed to exist? Why they are allowed to breath the very air that I move through? Indeed…

But still, nothing would be more satisfying than to turn around and bash this one’s brains out of its skull… to watch the blood and gray matter ooze down the wall, and relish in the horror when its mate finds its remains. To hear it shouting at the unfairness of it all, to have this one brought back from the dead only to die once again in such a banal matter.

Ahh, indeed, such gratification… but no, it is a move of folly, it would only bring suspicion, and there is more yet to be done before…

The voice stopped, and Panthar found himself holding has hand in a tight fist, the urge to turn and swing flittering at the top of his thoughts. He unclenched his fist and swallowed hard.

“I don’t know how my hand was healed, Terrin,” he said, very deliberately. He still did not turn to face Terrin. “But I am very grateful for the pain to be gone. However, right now all I can think about is how very hungry I am, and that getting to the dining room is a very good idea right now. In fact, I can’t think of anything else I would rather do right now than get to the dining hall and find some food. I hope nothing gets in my way, because I don’t know if I could control myself.”

Panthar waited, but the pain did not come. He stepped forward.

“And I sure would not want to be disturbed when I am there,” he said, still looking forward. “So I don’t want to see anyone following me.”

He quickened his pace, the urge to move overpowering him.

“But I do not yet know my part in this play,” he continued. “I heard the Master saying something about the Vong. I thought at the time I was in delirium, but I am sure now that he said it. I do not believe he welcomes their presence, but, alas, it is all speculation.”

Phalomir placed his hand on Jharmeen’s cheek.

“Which is why we fight the battles we can, and the battle we face first is for the Clan of Warriors. I know you hate this, but ShaRhylla is usurping your position, whether through her own actions or under the unwitting control of another – such as Roan – but this must end.”

Phalomir stood.

It was amazing how wide a gulf the Portal she opened had spanned.

The scent of Dagobah lingered yet in her nostrils, heady and heavy with greenness and life; the hooting calls of distant flyers fought to be heard in her memories amidst the gentle, ever-present scrabble of the white spiders as they scurried along their little lives. That buoyantly overpowering essence which made the swamp world such a haven, that joie de vivre, sang through her very bloodstream, yet as she stood there leaning into Phalomir's hand she could feel its presence dimming as a growing chill began to spread within her.

For one moment she wavered, yearning to return to the world that Yoda once called home, seeking to depart from the distress and despair and pain she knew she would find ahead on this one.

Not to mention the danger.

She sighed, let her eyes drift open, and stared deeply into Phalomir's brilliant green pair.

"And who is to say that the approach of the Vong is not the intended path this galaxy should follow?" she whispered, raising a hand in turn to Phalomir's cheek, remembering yet again the strange little venturings of the spiders.

She turned from him with a sad little smile and approached the sofa. The gown laid out by her lady-in-waiting looked somehow lonely now that Phalomir had dressed himself. Letting forth a small sigh, she took up the gown and quickly let it drop over her, closing her eyes again as she took a brief moment to relish the soft kiss of spider's silk against her flesh. She did not wear the gown so much as it draped and flowed about her, magickally clinging to parts of her anatomy in utter defiance of the laws of physics, baring her skin in others. The color was the deep green of Dagobah at twilight, sprinkled with silver Krayt dragon pearls which chased each other along whorls and spirals embroidered upon the bodice and airy, flowing sleeves. A delicate tracery of gold-webbed pearls was the finishing adornment; it caught up her flaming locks in tight bondage, only to release them in a waterfall down her back.

She turned to Phalomir with a slight curtsey, then gave him a subdued look.

"While the events if state that you speak of are unbeknownst to me, I am glad you are here," she said.

She then took hold of his profferred arm, and let him lead her into the corridor without their chambers. The stones echoed with their soft footfalls as they made their way along to the Dining Hall that they might break their fast--

Oh and Khaandon be with me, not my heart-- she couldn't help thinking, not without a touch of dread.

It seemed to me that with my physical change, also came an increased apetite. Apparently either I had truely changed, or the magick that gave me all of this effected me in a very strong way.

As I carried a sliver of a foreign meat to my lips, I paused, to look at ShaRhylla.

"I find it odd that none of the others are up. I would have thought them to be here sooner, as I'm sure everyone feels the same general need for food... perhaps-"

Terrin frowned, back off from Panthar's trail slightly, but never departing from it. After all, there was one other thing Terrin was certain of. Down deep, Panthar seemed to still be himself, and seemed to want someone to keep an eye on him while not stepping in on his actions.

Or perhaps that was all part of the ruse?

Terrin wished he had a blaster or something as they approached the Dining Hall, Panthar making a beeline for the double doors to enter therein. Terrin stayed several steps back, keeping a keen eye and ear out, and stepping into the room as well. His eyes stayed on Panthar, however.

More than likely, there goes breakfast.

Trying to ignore the sudden rumble my stomach obligingly emitted at that precise moment I gritted my teeth, moving quickly down one corridor after another, turning left here, nodding to a passing Sith there. Soon I came to the quarters I shared with Terrin and Darra; the door suddenly flew open, spitting forth my daughter.

I stopped briefly, still uncomfortable with that idea. It was more as if she was a suddenly discovered sister, or a cousin that had popped out of nowhere...

She smiled at me, queried politely as to my morning, how I slept, the usual stuff one says to another at the beginning of a new day. I, however, didn't have time for such niceties, so I'm afraid I cut her off a touch wee impolitely.

"Everyone's heading to the Dining Hall; I have to find Jharmeen," I explained rather hurriedly. Her brow rose in question at that, but I decided now was not the time to fill her in.

"Go on and join everybody; I'll talk to you later," I finished before hurrying off again, leaving her standing in something of a puzzlement in my wake.

On I went, now moving deeper into the bowels of the temple, once in awhile letting my vision grow dim as I focused on my memories of its inner mazes, trying to remember just where it was she had kept her rooms.

I think it's this way...

I was rewarded as, coming to yet another corridor which intersected the one I was hastening down and turning down it, I could see a distant stone wall. That wall was steadily changing color, growing a touch wee more violet, more blue, as if alit by a steadily approaching light.

That's her, I thought in some relief, quickening my step. I soon came to the next intersection where I turned to the left, letting the glow direct me. There farther down the corridor came my sister and Phalomir, their arms linked.

"Jharmeen," I called out. "There is an apparent problem with--"

Something made me pause. I dunno, call it the way that the wierd thing on her forehead was lighting her path, really bright, fiery bright, as if it was a tiny sun planted there. Perhaps it was just the fact that her skin looked a bit more pale than usual, maybe in contrast to that flaring glyph. Call it a sudden shadow I saw swimming in her eyes, something only a sister, one of common blood, would see.

Or call it another one of those damnable hunches I have always had.

"Jharmeen-?" I repeated her name, the tone of my voice rapidly switching to one of concern. "Are you--"

I never got to finish the statement. She stopped in her tracks, bringing Lord Phalomir to a halt beside her, surprise and growing worry fighting along the hard planes of his face. He looked to her, she looked to him, then back to me.

"I--"

The single word whispered musically against the stones of the corridor, ringing as a harsh oxymoron in both my ears and Phalomir's. For in unison we both said the same thing.

"No."

My feet took life unto themselves, my brain left, shocked, in the dust as to my horror every last bit of color drained from her face. She swayed, then slid from Phalomir's grasp, hitting the stones of the corridor like a bundle of limp rags.

By the time I reached her side and fell on my knees beside her, the Glyph on her forehead was not only out...

It was gone.

"Jha- Jharmeen?" I choked, leaning forward, shocked, horrified, uncomprehending, oblivious to whatever it was Lord Phalomir was doing at the moment.

For there was no breath, no heartbeat.

I once asked you to be my consort; now it appears matters are being settled for me, directing me along another path but one not so different from the one I--

Her thoughts were interrupted by a completely unexpected source. Instinctively she whirled about, the brandy goblet dropping from nerveless fingers, her eyes seeking out Rykounagin's, perhaps not so much in yearning to share with him one particular moment but in horror for the approach of yet another, one whose beginnings had been incompetely thought out by her but yet formed, as if somehow thought of by another, a moment now slamming into her with a vengeance.

A sudden flare lit the Dining Hall; slowly her eyes were drawn to that which was ablaze.

It was the Tattoo of Entitlement, once a somber black, now flaring forth in incandescent splendor before settling down into a steady, golden glow.

Her mouth fell open in shock, and she blinked, at first not comprehending. Then her gaping mouth restored itself into a sultry and darkly victorious smile, her eyes hooded like a rancor about to pounce. They lifted once more to Rykounagin, but not with the desire to meet his.

Instead they glued themselves to the hand which was holding an eating utensil, stopped in the act of carrying food into his mouth.

His Tattoo was blazing a brilliant gold as well.

She knew instantly what had happened. Her smile broadened, showing a peeping fang.

"And now it begins," she muttered softly as she motioned to a nearby serving girl, who likewise was caught frozen in startlement. The young Sith moved into obedient life, bringing ShaRhylla another goblet of the potent and vibrantly green Sith brandy.

ShaRhylla raised her glass on high before bringing it down to her lips. In the overwhelming surprise of this moment, it never once dawned upon her that the words she uttered were not her own.

It comes from nowhere, slamming into me, crippling me, sending my muscles into shocked rictus, my eyes unfocused, the increased beating of my heart an almost deathly thing.

For the Link, that one magnificent Link, is severed with a finality I know to my very soul to be complete.

I double over, the pain flowing, beating at me, striving to trample me to the floor. But gradually thoughts of what has happened segue into thoughts of its inescapable why, in turn followed by thoughts of those remaining, and what it is we all have yet to face.

Tears fill my eyes, unable to evaporate even in the fires of them. I stumble to the Octahedron, stand before it, one clawed hand upon its cool surface, the words forming like dread in my head.

"Show me--"

It obeys, my eyes are not deceived. I close them against the sight, a sight I knew was coming, but not now, not this soon, oh gods why did it have to be so soon...

Even as denial rears its head logic follows on its heels. I know she is human, was human, as did I know this that day I chose her from the myriad who make up the portion of the Universe termed humanity. I know such frail minds cannot handle Sith magicks without rupturing, splitting, in the end going mad.

How could I expect her to handle that which I bestowed upon her for the remainder of a human's natural life?

A sage once intoned that the good of the many far outweighs the good of the one, but such pronouncements do not make this moment any less painful to bear.

I hang my head in sorrow against the the cold serendipity of time, and in letting my hand fall to my robes let the image become lost within returning greeny-golden splendor.

A golden tattoo of entitlement.

I stared at it for what I could only describe as an eternity in a particle of a second. Then with a collison of the strongest emotions, I became as still as a statue, for neither could win over the other.

In my right hand, stood my joy. I was now dark lord, lord of my lady, lord of the warriors, and naught could harm me now. The woman that I hated most was dead.

But that is what gave me the emotion of the left hand. For there it was, the true, barren, and simple fact.

She was dead. The woman that I had sworn to kill, was dead. The opportunity for my greatest hate and greatest passion to be undone, to be gone and thus my curse and burden lifted, was taken from me.

Finally, the inward conflict subsided, and I merely smiled, fangs glinting in their hidden joy, as I heard the voiced words of my lady. "Yes, yes indeed."

It was in this moment, even as I spoke, that almost all feeling escaped me. Not even the beauty and comfort of these robes did I truely feel. Not the scent of the chamber, the creeking of the door, the weight of food that I had eaten; did I truely feel.

With that, I chuckled, setting the food down gently, before looking to her fully and smiling- not caring for those who had just opened the door and were now looking at us openly.

"We have achieved apotheosis, my Dark Lady of the Warriors."

...and never letting go. With a start, she sat bolt upright in the bed, much to the surprise of her husband, whose look of utter concern was totally missed. Shayla's eyes defocused, and she honed her senses on that which was tremoring through the Force...

...and that which was suddenly missing.

No. No, no, no, no, NO ...

She didn't even explain to Erik, but rather rushed to her feet and past him, her feet taking wings as her Force-senses lead her towards the source of the unmistakable tremor now residing within it.

No.

Shayla knew not what paths she took, nor did she know if anyone followed her. All she knew was that, with each passing moment and each passing step the tremor grew and the rift in her heart grew as well.

No. Please let it be a dream, a hoax, anything.

As she continued on, she heard movements of muted startlement and perhaps even sobs. The sorrow within the hall was enough to squelch the life out of any one being...

...and Shayla's was no exception. She froze in her tracks at that juncture, her eyes adjusting to the eerie darkeness...

...and focusing on the still form now surrounded by other familiar forms.

"No, Noooo....."

Falling to her knees beside the still form of Jharmeen with others, Shayla placed a hand upon her head where the glyph should have been. "Nooooooooo..." she cried again, her eyes closing as tears began to stream down her face, her Force senses trying to reach out for anything she could lock onto and heal. "It cannot be, it cannot..."

She shook her head as she spoke, her eyes sealed closed, the tears still falling. "You were the only true friend I ever had...

...it cannot be..."

Time halted, and all Phalomir could do was stare at the pale face of the only woman he had ever loved. He had crossed time to find her, endured the sufferings of hell with only thoughts of her to keep him sane, and had finally found that inner peace with his heart wrapped securely in her love.

And now that peace was gone, replaced by emptiness.

Shayla had appeared from nowhere, and Phalomir fell backwards and sat against the wall. Still staring, he again felt for the link of love and found nothing.

She was gone.

Phalomir leaned forward, his long arms reaching past Shayla and Galen, and gently picked up Jharmeen’s still form. He brought her to him, cradling her to his chest, and lowered his head to hers. Tears welled, then flowed freely from his closed eyes and down his suddenly tired face. He trembled, a pain deeper than any wound shuttering through his body.

No. Not again, not another life, not again, not my sister, no, it cannot be, I won't believe it, I cannot believe it, it isn't right, first Darra then Terrin and now--

Terrin.

I blinked, a flicker of hope rising from ashes.

"You're Sith," I stated calmly, my voice in complete incongruity to the emotions now waging full war within me.

"Terrin died, he's alive, can't you do something? Aren't you supposed to be some kind of big, bad warrior; don't you have all those weird tattoos on your body from all the other clans, don't you have any S'slan-forsaken power at all?!?"

I could go on no further. The grief was too overwhelming, too painful, too reminiscent of other losses I knew I'd never get over as long as I lived.

He involuntarily looked to the Sith across from her, and a feeling of anger and hatred rose within him. The two exchanged words, and the anger grew more pronounced. Panthar marveled as he could feel these emotions, yet managed to remain detached from them. Something else within him was fuming furiously.

Then the feelings stopped.

This is her destiny, the voice spoke. It floated in his mind with an eerie blackness.

Panthar remained silent, puzzling. He then jumped as the startling wail of Phalomir carried to the dining hall door. And without thinking, empty to his own feelings at the moment and carried only by the emotional waves from the entity within him, he looked to other Sith and laughed.

“Your fate is sealed, my friend,” said the voice, through Panthar.

Farewell, Mother dearest... she smiled to herself, glancing once again at the tattoo upon her wrist.

Panthar's sudden appearance, however, broke through her smug musings; startled, she raised herself smoothly to her feet, one hand lifted in front of herself, although whether to stay Rykounagin's ire from erupting, or to ready herself to let forth with a blast of her growing talents, or perhaps even in instinctive self defense, none could say.

Her eerie bi-colored eyes narrowed.

He smiled at the female shape before him, which at first wavered in and out of existence, then she settled into a very solid form. The woman’s eyes remained closed, and the Master waved a hand before her. She floated from her feet, then pivoted and came to rest on her back on a long bed.

“Sleep, Lady,” said the Master. “Death is not easy, and here you shall be safe from others who have awaited your arrival. The power of the Tower is more vast than that vile beast can comprehend, and even he cannot find you here. I shall awaken you when you are needed.”

The Master smiled once more, satisfaction now pervading his dark expression. The darkness around his body hummed with excitement, and as he left the room he recalled he once had stored another soul in this very chamber. But unlike Terrin, this one would never be given to Roan.

But Phalomir would need to be told...

“Her body is empty, Galen,” he said, his voice steadying. “I don’t know how this happened, but my magicks cannot bring the dead back. Her spirit is gone, flown away to –“

Phalomir stiffened.

“-- to the Darker Realms.”

His tears dried, his eyes turning to alarm. His thoughts filled with images of recent events in the Darker Realms, both during his torture and before that when he and Jharmeen had faced the army of demons.

Roan was waiting for her. He had relished the thought of her spirit entering the Darker Realms… and now she was most likely there.

“I have to contact the Master,” he said flatly. “I must enter the Darker Realms.”

He looked from Galen to Shayla, then down at the still Jharmeen.

“I will hope against hope that we may bring her back," he said hoarsely. “But the order of That Which Is will prevent that.”

He looked back to Galen.

“It is her spirit I fear for, that is why I must seek the Master. And perhaps Aelvedaar, I just don't know. All I can do now is protect this body in hope that...”

He shook his head, not knowing what to say. Although his mind sought answers, his eyes had taken on a vacant quality that could not escape Galen's notice. In the cold light of the hallway, Phalomir's massive frame remained sitting, huddled with the body of Jharmeen held close.

I rose quickly to my feet, came over to the knot of them, stared down at the too-quiet form of my sister--

She who had been on my trail for years, she who had sworn to kill me, she who had killed our father, she who had hounded and persecuted me, who had drawn me into this nightmare of the Sith--

But she who was, after all, my sister. And sometimes blood is the strongest tie of them all.

"Well, wake up and quit moping around then," I said, nudging Phalomir with my foot. My voice trembled as I spoke; with some difficulty I steadied it. I gave him another nudge, then turned to Shayla. That was for moral support; the words I continued to speak with were directed to the collapsed Sith Lord.

"What do you mean, you can't restore her? I mean, don't we have a Khaandon-damned sorceror Dark Lord in our camp? Can't anybody do anything? We brought Terrin back to life, and yeah yeah, I know, I remember. That Which Is--"

I paused a moment to close my eyes in brief reminiscence. It only spurred my denial and despair and sorrow on down the road to heightened anger.

"Well-- that's just tough."

It sounded inane enough, true. But the simple words said it all. My sister, though having done the terrible deeds that she had in the recent past, was still my sister. She hadn't asked for this curse to fall upon her.

She didn't deserve to die for the damned Sith, or because of them.

If there was the slenderest thread of hope, damned if I wasn't going to follow it. Do everything in my power, even if that meant entering into those terrible realms again, even if it meant facing that black blight called the Master or even more noxious splotch going by the name of Roan.

I was going to get her back, somehow. And then I was going to take her away, far far away, and talk some sense into her, and remind her of her humanity.

She was human, after all. She didn't belong with these people; enough was enough, wasn't it?

I turned back to the Sith Lord, eyed his limp form, frowned.

What was it with him? Is this what the Sith were really like? All big and bad and powerful with their magicks and all-- until the going really got tough? Did the tough just--

Fall down? Was that what truly destroyed them when they were attacked all those millennia ago?

That only fueled my personal fire.

Well, here's a little human intestinal fortitude for ya, buddy!

I booted Phalomir again, the motion more urgent, even a touch on the vicious side.

"Hey...! Don't you think now might be a good time to disappear with her? I mean, the Sith already think she's dead, right? Wouldn't this be the time to take her to Aelvedaar; maybe he can preserve her some way like Recinis preserved Terrin, until we can link her soul back into her body again."

Phalomir cocked an ear in my direction at that. I grunted, reached down and snagged him by his chin, yanked him to face me fully.

"That's exactly what we're going to do. And like I said about Ole Peepers--

"Tough."

The halfling Dark Lady quickly came to her senses. Rising to her own feet, she moved directly into Rykounagin's path.

"Stay your anger, my Lord," she said simply, one hand flashing up to lay against his muscled chest.

"I wish to speak with him further, for there is something-- familiar in the words he has just spoken."

She nodded to her mate, requesting he remain where he was, or at least did not continue on his former murderous course. Turning away then, she strode with stately hauteur to where Panthar was seated, calmly partaking of his breakfast.

She stopped beside his table, stared down her nose at him.

"How did you know that?" she asked, not specifying the meaning behind her words any further than that, not really understanding why those words provoked such a response within her, only knowing that deep within her most hidden self that they had.

“As I said, we must protect the body,” he said, trying to calm himself. “There are magicks than can do this, I can do this myself, but we must have a safe place to hide her. I think you are correct, Aelvedaar is the answer. But you must understand also the importance of finding her spirit as quickly as we can, for she made many enemies who may now dwell in the Darker Realms. I know in particular that Roan was waiting for her, and with my last breath I will prevent that beast from having her.”

Phalomir stiffened, trying to stop the shakes that had overcome him on his last statement. He bit his lower lip, then looked back to Galen.

“And yes, the Sith are a very emotional race,” he said softly. “It has guided many decisions from the greatest of us, and is perhaps at once our greatest strength and weakness.”

Phalomir looked again at Jharmeen, his face filling with determination. He then looked back and forth to Shayla.

“Yes, Galen, Old Peepers be damned. You are also right in that now is not the time for tears, we must act quickly. Only a small handful of Sith know that Jharmeen was not killed--”

Phalomir choked back an emotion.

The incredulous thought slammed into me, unbidden.

Isn't he your dear ole Daddykins? Don't you know--?

With great effort I forced down the retort that had likewise flashed to my lips. For while anger was an awesome fuel to carry us onward, misdirected anger was most certainly not.

I smiled at Phalomir, my lips pursing in a thin, grim line.

"All right," I said, drawing in a breath. Then I turned to Shayla, who appeared somewhat stunned by the turn of events.

"You go get Erik and the others; I'll head back to the Dining Hall to get Terrin. So far we have the freedom to go from place to place here-- but day has come, and the majority might see us as a threat, as the murderers of their Dark Lady. We'd better be making ourselves scarce, and quickly. As for getting to Aelvedaar--"

I narrowed my eyes, gave Shayla an intense look.

"Weren't you Jharmeen's second, or something? Did she ever show you any of her parlor tricks? Is there anything up there that might help us get off this planet and to Aelvedaar, or to at least attract his attention somehow?"

He went inside the chambers and lay Jharmeen down upon the bed, covering her. He sat at the foot of the bed, fighting back his emotions, and called forth his powers. He placed magick on Jharmeen’s body that would stop the onset of death’s effects, placing her in a frozen state.

When he was finished, he lay back on the bed, placing his hand on the portion of the blanket over her feet. He let the emotion drain from him, but the memories and loss pervaded his mind.

He sought once more for a link with Jharmeen, but nothing was there. No, wait, there was something. A small twinkle deep within his being… Hidden in the bowels of his spirit, a small ball of energy wrapped tightly around something alive and writhing…

It was the insanity that he had taken from Jharmeen. He recognized it, and suddenly wanted to set it free to consume him. All of the sadness, the anger, the shock, it would all go away if he simply let it loose…

“No!” he shouted, sitting up. “It is all I have left of her within me-- and it is a living piece of her. I will treasure this thing, and keep it alive.”

...but other than my Force abilities, my All abilities have been blocked. I don't know how we would contact Aelvedaar other than to go directly to Khar Delba, but..."

She trailed, her eyes growing a bit distant as she thought. "Wait a minute...can't the Dark Lords contact each other somehow? I thought Lord Recinis and Aelvedaar used to do so, anyway. If not, maybe there is a device here, somewhere, in the Dark Lord and Lady's chambers to do so...

...but at the moment I'd say that'd be a rather risky venture. The other alternative is to attempt a Force link...

...and my brother can help with that. Getting to her feet, Shayla could sense her heavy heart being jarred into action. "I'm going to go get him, and the others still in their suites as well. I'll meet at the disignated location as soon as possible."

Shayla turned, took a few steps, then paused, turning one final time to Galen. "Be careful, please."
Too many terrible things have already happened for the day, came the unvoiced addendum.

How in Hell's Seven Circles were we going to get to Aelvedaar?

I blew a breath from between pursed lips, pondering as I moved quickly back toward the Dining Hall.

Wondering as I moved along about these weird links everyone seemed to be always having with each other, links popping up, being blocked, switching back and forth like rivers winding and looping within their floodplains.

Links popping up... similar to certain personalities of our acquaintance. One in particular, one who had inhabited Panthar's mind at some point, or had it been Phalomir's?

Some other disembodied Sith, Thoran, wasn't it?

I came to a halt, wondering if this idea had any fruit to bear.

But he had been inside Panthar... who was now acting mighty, mighty strange...

I let out another, deeper, sigh; one through which I strove to expel the last remnants of any misgivings from me. Moving along, I thought further.

And what about that imp-thing, Fido? What had he been blathering on about when he popped up in the shower Terrin and I had been sharing? I was too mad at the time to really listen; maybe Terrin caught all of whatever it was he had been saying.

Maybe there was something helpful in his words, too.

Up ahead of me then, as I rounded yet another corner, there appeared a familiar flame-headed figure.

Darra.

I gave a fractional pause, then increased my pace, hurrying to catch up with her. Moments later, and I was taking her roughly by the arm.

She whirled in surprise and concern, questions rising in her face, her mouth opening to state them.

I didn't have time for that.

"Nevermind why, just go to your aunt's chambers and get there quickly!" I stated tersely, pulling her close so that my lips were next to her ear.

"And don't stop to talk to anyone en route!"

Pursing my lips more tightly, I released her, watching until she gave me a quiet nod and turned back in the direction from which we both had come. Heaving another sigh, I quickened my pace, hastening down this corridor and that, ducking into dark doorways and empty halls, striving to make myself invisible now so as to get to the Dining Hall and Terrin without any further disastrous incidents occurring.

...and send him into full suspicion mode. And as if that wasn't enough, the flash that left the two of their wrists glowing in golden splendor...

What were those things again, Graysith and Aelvedaar and every other Dark Lord or Lady had them. But Rhylla was supposed to just be in line, right? And who the hell was the Sith with her anyway? When did Rhylla start having an admirer? And what was with Panthar? He really was starting to sound a lot like Fido the demon, with all of his blatherings about Rhylla and the idiot boy...

a lightbulb flickered to life in Terrin's head. He slitted his eyes at Panthar, then the Sith whosis...

...and began to wonder just how in the hell he was going to get Panthar...and whoever else was possibly inside of him...out of the Dining Hall so he could start putting together the pieces of whatever was going on.

It was that he had entered with an air of what I could only describe as sarcasm, and now bowed his head playfully. It bemused and angered me.

But I could not deny my lady's request, though it was voiced more as a command.

Begrudgingly, I sat down, but now looked at the human who so observed us from the shadows of the door. "Come, sit and dine. Or shall you hide there as a worried stingfly?"

...only to skitter to a fast halt just inside the door. For who would be there but my dear darling niece, with a Sith I didn't know.

Then abruptly leaving him to go and apparently speak with Panthar, who had stalked away.

The one she left in her wake turned and called out to...

Terrin.

Yikes.

Instinctively, my eyes darted around for a good hiding place, skittering back again and again to the pair at the table. While they seem to have had Terrin pinned, they had yet to notice me. Holding my breath, I waited until the one Sith turned haughtily back toward Rhylla, who stared into his eyes as if asking him something. Making the most of this opportunity, I sidled quickly toward the imposing doorway I had just vacated, and moved.

Good thing those two were both all so wrapped up in their little affairs, I thought as I burst into a run. Time passed blindly, but soon I found myself outside of earshot of anyone in that grand and glorious meeting room; clenching my teeth, I only moved along faster.

Oh Khaandon, they had Terrin, they had Panthar...

This needed group thought, and quickly.

I ran on, soon arriving at Jharmeen's quarters. Without so much as a knock I just burst inside, my frantic gaze sweeping past a teary-eyed Darra who stood quietly crying next to the bed--

--coming to a halt upon the sorrowful Phalomir.

"They've got Terrin," I gasped, leaning limply against the door which now stood closed behind me, the words difficult to spit out for the stitch in my side and the agony now constricting my throat.

Come on, Danner. You were an expert salesman, and the same tactics should work here. Besides, if you bolt now, they really will wonder what you're thinking. Or doing.

"I'm just wondering," Terrin opened with, "Why my friend over there acts like he knows you. I'm beginning to wonder if he partook in too much brandy last night."

He had a sip of brandy, then set the nicely inlaid goblet down without a thought, and looked at the human before me with respectful distain, as an employer looks to a disliked but necessary employee.

"I am sure they are all reasonably hungry, especially with their newfound grief. So, instead of bothering your present company with irrelevant questions, I bid you retrieve your companions to come and dine."

"Fine, then," Terrin replied, disgusted with the arrogance being directed his own way. Then, with no further ado, Terrin got to his feet, headed across the room...

...and out of the Dining Hall altogether to retrace his steps back towards the suites where he and the others had been left. Enroute he didn't even notice the quickening of his pace as his mind wondered just what in the hell they were going to do to get Panthar out of his current predicament.

And he nearly ran smack into Shayla, who didn't seem to be looking where she was going either. Reminded him of his first contact with Galen...

...which caused him to wonder exactly where she was. Something strange was going on in this place...

...and the sorrow on Shayla's face was enough to cement that suspicion.

...at least at the moment. But this is not the time or place to talk of such things. Follow me."

Shayla was glad that Terrin accepted her brief response and nodded...

...and had to wonder just why he was making a beeline from the Dining Hall himself.

Did he know too, somehow? Or was something else going on to add to all of this?

Shayla walked through a brief maze of hallways until she reached the suites Shawn and Terrin Danner's two employees had been given. Shawn literally met her at the door, the look in his eye eeriely cognizant of something. He frowned. "What has happened?"

Shayla wasted no time, but directed Shawn to get Matt and Jasyn. Once they were all present and accounted for, Shayla lead them back to Jharmeen's chambers, took them inside...

Including--

"Terrin!"

Scrambling, I managed to regain my footing and reach his side faster than I thought I could manage. My arms snaked around his neck.

"Oh thank the gods," I breathed, taking a moment to assuage the pain of my sister's death and that due to what I had been certain would be Terrin's certain capture, by just soaking in the feel of him against me. Satiated for the moment, I stiffened my arms, pushing back from him and took a quick glance around.

Everyone was present with the exception of the walking toaster, the weird silent shadow, and--

"Oh no, Panthar didn't make it away?" I mourned, sensing immediately that he was probably in danger, but knowing that at the moment we really didn't have much recourse in assisting him.

Unless Phalomir got hold of himself, and fast.

"Well... what are we going to do now?" I said for openers, my brain racing in circles.

Just gimme that ship--

But I knew our chances of getting to the warship were slim to none. We had to figure out a way to get to Aelvedaar, and then to the Darker Realms.

Terrin trailed. "Then looked to Galen. "He might be the one our dear friend Fido refers to as 'Idiot boy.' After all, he was with Rhylla. And they both have those damn golden tatooes on their wrists like..."

Terrin trailed, finally registering that something within the room was really very, very wrong. His eyes wandered to the all-too-silent form of Jharmeen, then to a sorrowful Darra and Phalomir.

Then with a fluid motion and smile, I rose and crossed the chamber, and opened the doors. I looked to one of the warriors in the chamber beyond, and with a smile that did not betray my inward laughter, I spoke.

"The body of our late Dark Lady has disappeared from its chambers. I am aware of it's captors. At least three humans, one female and two males. Capture them and their companions and retrieve her body so that it may lay in true rest."

I was about to dismiss him so that he might muster the ranks, but then held up a hand. "Oh, and if needed, Lethal force is permitted. We cannot allow the dirtying of our sanctity to last any longer than necessary. Bring any survivors to me, thankyou."

To dispel any worries or concerns about my newfound authority, as I had spoken and raised my hand, I had let my sleeve reveal my golden mark.

"I-- I don't; she's-- gone, Terrin. She-- she d-died," I somehow, finally, managed. I couldn't say anything else, and Khaandon help me neither could I let myself go before the fresh wash of grief now threatening to overtake me. I didn't have the time; we didn't have the time, if what Terrin said was true.

And I know my Terrin. He doesn't exaggerate. He leaves that up to me.

Blinking back tears, I turned to Phalomir, and then to Shayla and Shawn and Erik.

"You guys have all the power we've got, and something tells me it's not going to be enough," I said. I swallowed thickly, then repeated my former question.

"What are we going to do? We're really kind of sitting ducks here, especially if my darling niece and her new joe decide to come make more trouble for us."

"My Lord," he said simply, bowing over a forearm clamped across his chest. Then straightening, he left his companion to guard the Dining Hall, hastening away to his barracks to get a retinue of soldiers with which to follow those orders given to him. As he hastened along he pondered upon what Rykounagin had said, his colorful eyes slitting in growing anger.

The very desecration!

Panthar ate a bite of fruit as Rykounagin returned, then he left the plate on the table. He turned to face ShaRhylla.

“But I understand you hear the call of your father,” he continued. “It is your choice to answer that call, but hear me. Your mother is gone, but there are others in line. Others of your own bearing, carrying with them the same desires and unending hunger for more. Never forget them, lest yours be the same fate as your mother. I wish only for your safety, my queen.”

Panthar looked at the smirking Sith, and once again hate and rage filled him. He had no idea where this came from, let alone why he spoke the words he did, but he looked back to ShaRhylla and continued.

“I wish you great success,” he said, bowing to her. He lifted his head and added, “To you both. I shall take my leave, and leave you to your newly found stations.”

Panthar stood and walked towards the door. Something within him still stirred, and a strange electricity seemed to crackle around his body. A tense feeling poised all around him, as if he anticipated an attack and readied to counter it. With what, he had no clue, but whatever it was that was driving him seemed to feel no fear.

Before he reached the door, he paused and turned.

“And to answer your question, my queen… Memories linger forever, and pass through many forms. Some things are never forgotten. Rule your people, my queen, and I shall see you again.”

It was as if an emptiness she did not know she had was suddenly standing on the verge of being filled.

Impossible.

"Impossible!" she cried, finding her voice, her voice loosening her from her frozen state.

"How dare you-- who are you to speak of such things? How dare you come to me with riddles, speaking words of seeming fealty yet words through which dark laughter runs unchecked! Do not feel so smug in your belief that I do not sense that!"

Now her loosened tongue loosened her feet, and she bore down upon Panthar like an enraged bantha. Coming up behind him she shot out one slender hand, letting forth with a blast of her talents, immediately bringing him to a halt and yanking him jerkily about to face her once more.

"Who are you to decide who is and who is not your Lord and Lady!" she seethed, freeing him, wanting to rip his throat out where he stood. Confusion danced in the eyes in front of her; she didn't even see it. Lifting her lip in anger she leaned forward, up and into him.

"Who is it you speak of, who would threaten this reign? Who are the ones you state as being in line, who would pose so dire a threat to me and my Lord?

"Answer me now, if you wish to remain alive to see the end of this day!"

“Whether I see the end of this day makes no difference, my queen,” he said steadily, bowing his head. “For some memories live on forever, even those lost within you.”

He raised his head to meet her eyes, the smile toned down to a mere pleasantry.

Satisfied with the wink of yoda-speak (though I did not know it), I gently turned her from the doorway at which the sith had stood; a totally different one from that which she and I had encountered the night previous.

I glanced back towards the sith, and with a mental composition of magic, slammed the door in his face, though whether it was real or not I hardly cared. "Come, you are overexcited by the events of our new status and the words he threw about to befuddle us."

I smiled, and gently taking her hand, brought her to sit. "We have a much more important affair to deal with, one of which the warriors, of all sith, treasure most dearly. With only a fortnight and a half between this moment and it, there is little time to be spared."

I was about to continue, if I was to do anything I am sure I was. But at that very moment, an almost piercing keen split my head for a moment, as those same visions that had plagued me in the night before my transformation flashed through my mind at a break-neck pace.

I growled quietly as slowly they faded from my vision, but realized what I was doing, and ceased. "Worry yourself not with prophets and riddle-speakers, for neither are important. You are whole as is, and we have much to celebrate. A celebration that can commence-"

"-as soon as your mothers dear friends and murderers are brought to justice." I smiled, had a moment of pondering whether to take another sip of brandy, but decided against it, and spoke my last words before waiting in my turn.

Shallow.

There was something else here, something other; more than the mere babblings of a soothsayer, more than the dire foretellings of a prophet.

Here, in the words uttered by the strangely haunted Sith, reality of a darker kind beckoned to her on ebon wings.

She blinked, frowning as she strove to put meaning to the words he had spoken. And then, as if coming up from a great depth, like a noisome, oily bubble oozing up through a pit of tar, to burst sickly upon the surface, darkening its immediate surroundings with blackness, there came a touch of memory.

Not much, just a quick vision of black and flame and the rushing roar of a multitude of voices crying out in exultation, all watched over by a pair of red, red eyes, oh so ruby red, as red as freshly spilled blood.

Dark tresses rode upon the winds of Night.

Blinking in frightened confusion now, she turned to Rykounagin. Gestured toward the door.

"Tha-that one displeases me," she said, her voice faint, before she interrupted it altogether by taking hold of a nearby bottle of Sith brandy and lifting it to her lips, never setting it down until it had been drained completely dry.

"I..." However, caught in that spin I could not bring voice to whatever I had been going to say.

A small voice of sanity whispered in my ear in the spin, amongst the howl of that which my mind seemed stuck in. With little else to follow, I spoke quietly, as though amost programed. "I need to look upon something."

Then without a further word, I rose, turned towards the set of double doors that led from the chamber, and passed through them.

My destination, unvoiced was my own. It was a place one would not normally think to find a sith warrior, let alone the dark lord. But it seemed there that I might find peace and somehow sanity in the raging storm that seemed to be boiling up.

Solace... gods give me solace in a place of neverending silence... the library, answers are always there... the library...

I gently pushed the doors open to the old tome-filled chamber, and felt the agonies from before washed away by the agonies of the ages, that seemed to cry out from the shelves.

But there was one, a single silent one- bound with no title. "Perhaps this one...?"

I silently pulled it from the shelf and began to read- and as I did so, the wailing of the ages faded away as more knowledge of things came to my mind...

He reached Phalomir’s door, panting, and knocked. There was no answer.

“Oh, dang… oh wait, maybe he got lucky!”

Panthar ran for Jharmeen’s chambers, ducking once to avoid a group of warriors, then finally made it to the door. He pounded on it, heard nothing, and decided to take a chance. His fear was great, and a sense of urgency had overcome him. He opened the door and entered.

Her eyes darkened then, other words now coiling silkenly through her mind.

"...a Lord... fits the station and attends to more than his personal satisfaction..."

Slowly her clawed hand coiled into a fist, shattering the sith bottle still clutched within it. Shards of glass ripped into her flesh, but she paid it no heed.

She looked down at the damage she had wrought, her eye suddenly caught by the golden glow of her Tattoo. It glimmered there upon her wrist.

Laughing at her.

Snarling, she threw the bottle remnants at the nearest serving girl; then rising upon her high horse quickly and haughtily fled the Dining Hall, seeking what she did not know.

She only knew it had to be dark.

Kriffing hell...

"They let you go?" Terrin couldn't help but opening with. Then, frowning, he continued with, "Where the hell are they, anyway...

...and what happened back there anyway?"

From my birth to now, this was all forseen... before even the moving of the sith to the present, this was forseen.... how?

As I turned to the next page, a small shining object fell from the pages and into the folds of my robes.

I groped down amongst the material, and found the fallen thing to be a small mirror. But when I lifted it to look at myself, I did not see the sith I had become, but the boy I once was: pale, hair white and eyes scarlet, with what I could only describe as my own now invisible tattoos pulsing with something I could not see.

I stared for a long, long time at what I once was. Then with careful, almost obsessive care, I gently placed the mirror in a sealed fold of my robes.

I looked back to the book, and continued to whisper quietly of what I read, page after page still showing more and more darkness, more and more... nature.

It seemed that as each word was read, its meaning and purpose flew into me and possessed my mind for a fleeting moment before becomming stored. It seemed that this book, this tome, this... guide had been written for me... or one of my kin.

My old kin, the assassins.

Before me was not just the simple arts, rituals, and powers of the cult- but the darkest parts of what it was, what it had, what it could symbolize. Each page was a wealth of things I had never known, but knew to be true.

Was I afraid? Disturbed? Shocked by the images and knowledge that seemed to possess my mind and give me even darker thought and more loathed persona?

Not at all.

With a smile, I raised my index-fingers to my horns, and prodded my fingertips, drawing blood from each. With a frenzy that few could have comprehended, I began to draw upon what I had learned, the book -blank as it was- whispering away into the shadows as I worked, staining the stone dark with my blood as my art slowly began to unravel from its central point.

“I, um, I’m not sure why but I wished them well and offered some advice,” he said. “Then idiot boy slammed the door in my face and I ran here…”

Idiot boy? Where did that come from?

“Um, I am not quite sure what’s going on around here – or in here – but I know it can’t be good.”

He glanced at the bed, to Jharmeen, and then to Phalomir’s wan face.

She trailed again, tears welling up in her eyes. "She's gone."

"And regarding getting out of here and to Aelvedaar as soon as possible...

...we do have the Sith belt, which is a start...

“My priority, as I believe is most of those here, is to Jharmeen herself. Yes, her body is dead. Why, I do not know, but we know from personal experience that the body is but a vessel for the spirit, and her spirit is in great danger if she is in the Darker Realms. I have an idea on how to contact the Master, and perhaps together we can also devise a way to contact Aelverdaar.”

Phalomir looked to each of the people in the room.

“But by leaving here to pursue this, we leave the fate of the Warriors to the new Dark Lady, who must have by now realized that what she had usurped is now a reality. I for one am prepared to leave immediately. What say you all?”

“Holy crap!” he exclaimed. “So that’s why the little glowy things on their wrists were glowing, and why the voice had me congratulate them!”

A twinge of pain shot into Panthar’s head, making him squint, but then seemed to hesitate, then dissipate. Panthar waited, then continued talking slowly.

“But why do you think she is in the Darker Realms? And why the heck did the line go to ShaRhylla and the other guy?”

Another thought filled Panthar’s head, seemingly out of the blue. It made no sense to him, but the words managed to reach his mouth nonetheless.

We observed her for another moment, then spoke. "Are you alright lady ShaRhylla? You seem distressed." We thought that, as the Lady Graysith's daughter, our duty to aid her carried over to some degree too her daughter.

As he turned the corner, he saw. "What... what has happened to her?" He asked, moving foreward quickly. What was strange though, is that while the familiar scent of death was about, there was a strange... missing part to the scent. A familiarity was gone.

"She's... dead... but she's not..." he murmured, looking over the body in its serene state of death.

"Yes, I am distessed!" she finally burst out in a seething whisper.

"I have found myself to have made a terrible, horrible mistake..."

But that was water under the bridge now, for the Master had inadvertently discovered a much better solution. Yes, the Vong were still entering into the Sith realm. Yes, the Sith were still without the leadership of One. Sith, Sith, Sith… There was so much more to the galaxy – to the Universe – than the Sith. He knew that now, and he understood the true meaning of sacrifice.

The power of the Dark Hall, that living thing residing at the heart of the Darker Realms, had entered into him. Meant for Phalomir, but disrupted by the intervention of Graysith and Shayla Stargazer, the power now showed the Master the secrets of life beyond life. The plotting and petty struggles of the past now a shadow in his memories, the Master looked forward.

And looking forward, he peered through the portal he had opened into the Dark Lady's chamber and faced the group from the other side of the bed where the body of Graysith lay, a mirror of the spirit now safely secured within the Tower of the Dark Hall.

“My son,” he said, his voice smoothly flowing from the hole in reality and resonating within Graysith's chamber. “I mean you no harm. I have plucked the Spirit of your beloved from the pathways of eternity, and with me she shall safely reside. It is my gift to you. I am one with the darkness, and my powers are great here, none shall harm her spirit. I wish for you to be unconcerned with trivial problems, a greater task is at hand.”

“I am changed,” he said. “Of this you can be sure. The evils within me are gone, my son, replaced by the powers of the darkness. I see the bigger picture, my son, and I wish to help you the best I may. Graysith is gone, nothing can bring her back to you. But I what can do is hold her spirit safely until those who would keep it captive are defeated. I know no other way to convince you of my sincerity, but I am indeed very sincere and truthful.”

Giving Terrin's arm a little squeeze, I sidled closer to the towering Sith Lord. The poor schmuck looked like a whipped puppy, ready and willing to take whatever meager scraps that might be doled out in his general direction.

"I don't trust this guy, Phal," I muttered, rising up on my tiptoes to better reach his ear. I don't know whether or not he was listening, but I sure as Khaandon made little green worrts hoped he was.

"You think that Jharmeen would be happy--"

Here I paused fractionally, choking back the upwelling rush of tears that suddenly tried to constrict my throat. Swallowing, I managed to continue.

"You think Jharmeen would be happy knowing her spirit was stuck in that awful place? I know I wouldn't; I mean, Hell's Seven Circles, I'd like to believe that we all go somewhere nice when we die, not there!"

Again I stopped, now sending a look Terrin's way. His endearing features and memories rose in my minds eye to wage a war with each other; shuddering I couldn't help but recall that it was in fact in that horrible, demon-ridden otherness that we had come across his spirit.

Could this be true? Is that where we all go?

Oh, hell no!

I gritted my teeth and pressed on, now laying a hand on Phal's arm to capture his full attention.

"Look, I know you're probably thinking that what we did with Terrin, we could somehow do again, Ol' Googly Eyes notwithstanding. Maybe we can; I'm ready to try again. Maybe there's some kind of loophole we can skitter on through or something; I mean, damn, I can't believe we're just pawns at the expense of some-- some thing! We have to count for something, right? I mean, we have will, we think, we love...'

Taking a deep breath I stopped in mid-sentence, forcing myself away from the direction into which I had been heading. Anyway, I think everyone was on the same page that I was; no use beating that particular dewback to death again. Thus said, I thought it would be better to approach this from a little bit different track.

"But we don't know that for a fact. We do know that He/It got mad as a wet rancor at us reviving Terrin, and took away that Claw-thing from Jharmeen, and--"

But there I stopped again, sudden inspiration striking.

And didn't make us give Terrin back.

The question was, however: would we be able to repeat our earlier success? Seems like all the components were there: we knew her spirit was safe-- well, relatively speaking. We knew her body was preserved by those amazing Sith magicks. All we needed was--

"I'm missing something, aren't I?" I said with a sigh, my shoulders slumping as momentary hope began to fade once again into the background.

Yeah. We sure as hell were.

Thoran.

We needed Thoran. And to tell the truth I had completely lost track of the li'l fella. Not to mention the fact that we had to gather ourselves in that other weird place, where the system holding the Temple of Armorers was now hidden. So we needed someone with the strange powers Sissypoops had.

And I still didn't trust Phal's dear ol' daddy as far as I could throw him. Which wasn't very.

The pain was forced out of his mind with the sudden realization that had done it. The plan was a long shot, but it was worth the risk. Better to be lost in the void between realities than be slave to the Master for eternity. And now he had freed himself from the Master’s grip.

The Master was evil beyond measure, a calculating two-faced liar who used his powers to control the emotions of mortals. And now he was insane with the power of the Dark Hall, so insane he no longer knew he was evil. That made the Master even more dangerous, and Thoran knew he was only one who could instigate his downfall.

Thoran stood, his legs wobbly. He hated himself for what he had done, and now prepared to undo that evil. The Master held him in his power for so long, and although he had many times found ways around that slavery, when it came down to it he was just not powerful enough to break free of that. At least, not while he was just a formless spirit.

But now, he was whole. His greatest power was the ability to manipulate the very energies of living things, to blend with them and let his spirit exist within another’s. The Master had used him many times, for with this power he was the greatest silent assassin of all. But the partnership had long ago turned into servitude, and for that he swore vengeance.

He looked at his hands, and then lifted them to his face. Yes, he was whole again, once again within the Sith body he was born into.

A shadowy movement from across the room caught his eye, and he smiled in thanks at the small imp who aided him in his escape. Now he would use the demon to escape the Darker Realms, for that is where the Master had stored this body.

He breathed deeply, knowing that he had much to do. The Master had changed, and once the original plans had failed the Master had ordered Thoran to be an assassin once again. He moved from Phalomir to Graysith during their tenderest of moments, and feeling like a voyeur he hid within her mind. Then he went to work, locating the weaknesses within her battered mind, and caused her spirit to detach from the body. Signaling the Master, her spirit was plucked away, as if she had died. He hid himself alongside that spirit as the Master pulled it into the Darker Realms. At the exact right moment, he let go and tumbled blindly through the Darker Realms until the imp had found him and brought him to this body. It was a simple matter of reuniting his spirit with his flesh, and now he was ready to set a few things right, destroying the Master in the process.

He sincerely hoped that Phalomir had taken steps to preserve Graysith’s body.

The imp had made its way to Thoran. He nodded at the creature, and it ripped its claw at the open air. A thin line shimmered in the space before it, which then opened into a spreading crack in reality. Thoran nodded at the imp again, and stepped through the portal and into a long, dimly lit hallway. He breathed deeply again, taking in the air of the Sith into his own lungs for the first time in a long time, as the portal closed behind him.

Now the hard part, finding and convincing Phalomir of what had happened.

“I find it difficult to believe him,” he whispered. “But if he has Jharmeen’s spirit, then it is possible he speaks the truth about keeping her safe from Roan. There is no love lost between those two.”

Phalomir sighed and looked back through the portal. He could see the dark shape of the Master standing on the other side of the strange doorway through dimensions, and wondered what he should do. Something felt terribly wrong, and too much was happening in such a short amount of time.

He turned back to Galen.

"I think we should demand--" I began, then stopped. I couldn't bear it; Phal looked worse than a whipped puppy. He looked like some mighty and noble steed whose spirit had been broken. And standing in quiet sorrow off to one side, my daughter didn't look much better. I flinched with the realization that although I might be her biological mother, Jharmeen had been more of a real mother to her during her stay here in the temple. That much I could read in her eyes. I could also read growing confusion, but confusion tinged with a bright little speck of hope.

And you know what they always say about hope.

"I think we should just keep on riding this ronto we've gotten ourselves onto," I finally said, shuddering as my overly active imagination went once more into overdrive.

Just think. To be rent from your body in death, and then not allowed the final peace of eternity. Who knew what horrors the Master could be inflicting upon Jharmeen's very soul?

But I couldn't just let her drift away into the cosmos. I just couldn't. Admittedly, I was too selfish. And again, even though she had spent much of the last four years trying to hurt me or maim me or kill me or otherwise bring a drop of dankness into my rosy days--

She was, after all, still my sister.

"While her spirit is there, we still have hope. I-- I know there's something of whatever it is she has inside me; maybe I could figure out how to get it working, or maybe Aelvey could give me a few pointers..."

Or maybe he'd help us himself--

"But, I agree with Terrin. Time's a-wasting here; if I know my darling little niece she's going to want to make things difficult for us, and the first thing she's probably going to do is do something with Jharmeen's body.

“For now,” he said. “Know that her spirit is safe, and that her offspring now rules the Sith. It is Roan’s hand that guides that one, you must cut it off at the wrist. That is the first task, and the first step to seeing the bigger picture.”

“I am at my capacity for tolerance of the Master,” he said. “But if he indeed has her spirit, then we have to play his game for now. But you are definitely right, we must hide her body in a safe place. Obviously, with Aelvedaar would be a good choice, but how do we contact him? If we are limited to this world, then we could use the Sith belt to reach our ship and travel back to the Temple of Slaan, and somehow escape the blockade. Or, we could ask a favor from my ‘ally’ in orbit, Mr. Tarnus.”

Phalomir looked to the others, who looked helpless and lost.

"Yes, I have a mate... of sorts," she retorted, tossing her head and letting another puff of air escape her nostrils.

"But one not of my own choosing! Indeed, had the matter been up to me--"

She broke off suddenly, torn between the sudden wonder that she was speaking so freely to this strange machine, and by the soft caress of something angel-dark that beckoned to her at her deepest, cellular level.

Teeth and claws and blood and fire, and eyes of ruby, ruby red...

The image was less than subliminal, more than a constant memory. She shuddered, tossing her head again to hide her discomfiture, and was formulating a particularly scathing reply when the hall about her suddenly rang with the echo of marching feet. She whirled, her eyes narrowing to see that hall filled with the fast approach of the temple's warrior elite.

They came up to her and fell to their collective knees, heads facing the cold stones of the floor. She stood there in haughty silence, basking in the moment, before finally deigning to speak to their Captain.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded imperiously, placing her hands on her hips and glowering dangerously.

The Captain and his men didn't see that glower, for they didn't dare raise their faces to meet hers. Speaking to the floor, the Captain at length ventured forth a succinct explanation of why he and his men were en route to the royal chambers of the Temple.

ShaRhylla snorted at this. While it was true she had no love for her mother, and was delighted to find herself Dark Lady of the Sith...

...at the moment she was even more put out with her enforced husband.

"Ridiculous!" she snorted, stamping her foot.

"You are to do no such thing, no body has disappeared; why, even now my ladies are attending to her for her funeral."

Her glower darkened, daring the warrior give a reply to her blatant lie. He remained, wisely enough, silent.

"I will have no such mucking about during this time of grief; my mother has died and there will be no untoward actions during this terrible, terrible time!

"So take your men and return to your barracks, and if your Dark Lord should tell you otherwise, please recall that I am Dark Lady by the Blood.

"His blood, after all, does not run true within his veins."

She crossed her arms then and waited for the Captain to comply with her spur-of-the-moment command. Then an insidious little smile curled about her lips.

How fun this new position was going to be. Why, she didn't need a Lord; she could run things quite nicely by herself.

And as for her father...

Fresh, garnet blood welled up upon her lip where her fang pierced into it. Her eyes darkening further, she turned and hastened off into the bowels of the Temple, seeking a particular room hidden within its very heart.

"But, as for Jharmeen's body..." She trailed, her frown only deepenng further. "Maybe we should take her to Khar Delba as well, so that Aelvedaar can look after her. Or...."

Another pause. A thought. Shayla turned to Phalomir. "What about the underground location you took Erik and I to on Khar Del
ba, all that time ago? Would Jharmeen's body be safe there?"

"Hey, wait a minute!" I exclaimed, now turning to Terrin.

"Fido! He wants to help us, or at least he says he does; he can open up portals, I know--"

Oh Khaandon, believe me I know. Memories of one ripping open right before my eyes in Captain Yaoksi's ship...

I forced that terrible image away, and tried to find the cloud's silver lining. Yeah it was there. Tarnished, but there.

"I bet he can help us," I continued, looking around now as if expecting him to pop into life any moment.

"He can open a portal and get us to Khar Delba, and then we can hide Jharmeen and get to Aelvey; where has the little dickens gotten off to anyway? Terrin, have you seen him since he last--"

Pausing at that, Terrin frowned, not liking the sound of what he was saying. After all, what if Fido had decided to go vigilante on them? That couldn't be good, for any of those involved.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Terrin then turned to Phalomir, a thought crossing his mind. "Is there not any way you can open a portal for us? I know, that's something dealing with All-usage...

Phalomir thought for a moment.

“Before, I was able to establish a link with Aelymaar, perhaps it is still there.”

The young Adopted Heir nodded to himself in satisfaction, knowing that he had performed the small duty presented to him to the best of his ability. He had seen the Sith warrior Kelvendar back to his ship, and had watched as it blasted off, to return to K'eel Doba with the intent of fetching the ailing young Lady. After making certain the departure was uneventful, Aeylmaar had then returned to the Temple proper, going to partake in a small dinner before seeking his rooms to study a bit more and rest.

A day or so passed in this manner, and all seemed quiet. His father had not contacted him, apparently being busy with the task ahead of them all, and he had not even attempted to intrude upon the Dark Lord's self-imposed hermitage.

Until, that is, the unexpected happened.

It slammed into him from nowhere, doubling him over, gasping in pain and anguish.

Wave after wave of sorrow, of anger and denial, then acceptance of a grief almost too terrible to bear...

It seared directly into his soul... and it was coming from the Link established between himself and his Father. It was so overwhelming that it completely washed over a mirrored reflection, coming in from another source.

He fell to the floor, shaking his head, supporting his body with knees and one stiffened arm. The other one moved to press a clawed hand over his heart.

Father, what has happened? he thought out via his link, but received no reply. There was only that tsunami of grief, followed by a drear and frightening blankness. Not as if the Dark Lord had been removed forcibly or terribly from his mind.

But that he had simply withdrawn, if momentarily, from it.

He hurried to his Father's chambers, stopped at the ornate door, knocked upon it.

"F-father, are you all right?" he queried, speaking both verbally and mentally into the great wash of despair that emanated from within.

No answer.

He tried the door; it would not open. It was as if Lord Aelvedaar had experienced something dreadful, something terrible, and had simply withdrawn as if in the attempt to escape a pain too terrible to bear.

And wasn't letting anything in to the protective barrier he had created.

Panic began an insidious rise within the young Sith sorcerer. He knocked again, increased the tempo until he was pounding. Again, no answer; just that awful, empty, despairing silence.

Then into that black sea there came a niggle, a whisper; someone trying to contact him, someone with whom he had made a link with long ago.

"Phalomir, is that you?" he sent back a tentative reply, a deeper rush of dread now filling him.

For his Father's withdrawal combined with the serendipitous contact by the K'eel Doban Sith Lord could certainly bode no good.

"Y-yes, I can join you there. I must tell you, something terrible has happened here as well, for Father has removed himself from me.

"But we shall speak of this when I arrive."

With that the young sorcerer lifted a clawed hand, and tested whether he had managed to conquer this, the newest task set before him by the Dark Sorcerer Lord.

Apparently, he had. A great, shimmering splotch suddenly formed in front of the grand, stone fireplace in Jharmeen's rooms, and through it stepped forth a somewhat nervous Aeylmaar.

"Ph-Phalomir?" he queried tentatively, being unable to see Jharmeen's body for the number of people now grouped about her bed.

I took up the tome I had burnt through in my time in the temple library, knowing I had a purpose now, knowing that it had to be accomplished.

And soon.

But unfortunately, the text had alerted me to other complications I might meet, speaking of individuals the tome surely could not have known of at the time of its writing.

I took it up under my arm and stole from the library upwards, just enough to encounter other living souls, before decending again- curious in appearance I passed- too the depths of the temple.

Now that tome was open, I bade the question: "Where are my own chambers?", and even as I walked, it spelt out new words to my eyes, guiding me to my destination.

Never had I been where I now sought, save for it's parody upon Khar Delba, in which the illusion my father had created had welcomed me many times. Now I sought its equivilant, to begin my planning and set in stone my goals for the near future.

As I came to the doors that the book told me was my destination, I carefully closed it (and as I did so, the pages whiped themselves blank again), and tied the simple leather cord about it's spine to keep the pages safe.

I went to the door of my room, the chamber of the dark lord of the warriors, and smiled faintly. I then pushed the door open, and entered.

Standing stock-still, she remained stone silent, watching as a figure moved from the shadows into the light of the one sconce she had fired. Blinking in surprise and disdain, she immediately loosened her feral posture, snapping upright to cross her arms across her chest.

"You!" she snorted, giving her head a toss for good measure.

But then I remembered. I had left her in the middle of a sentance that she had spoken. No explanation, no reason, just... abandoned her.

Like my brother and old master had myself.

I was suddenly jolted to the core with a sadness at what I had done and moved across the room, laying the tome down in the same motion that I took to kneel before her, bowing my head in respect and submission as I reached out and held her hand gently in my two own.

"My love... I am most sorry for my horrible departure from your company. Please, I beg forgiveness of you my lady, I know not what came over me..."

Though one would normally think of deciet from an assassin, I truely regreted my leaving of her company. This was the first time I had ever had a chance to have a relationship with anyone, and I swore to myself I would not throw it away so carelessly again.

"My lady, please speak of your forgiveness or anger at me, but leave me not in cold and unforgiving silence..."

Even though her stomach told her they were not.

She didn't know if she was right or wrong in the matter, and it angered her to discover that she felt a need to discover that. Why, was something she really didn't want to examine too closely at the moment.

She yanked her hand from Rykounagin's and glided swiftly backward, until the kneeling Sith was outside the perimeter of her personal space. There she took a deep breath, making certain the scowl was still planted firmly upon her fair features.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, coiled to spring.

"How can you say such words to me after your actions so recently spoke so very differently? How am I supposed to believe what you say now?

"In fact, why should I bother to remain here any longer? Why I should try to find out who you are when I clearly do not know this, is something I do not understand myself. Nor do I wish to!"

As my bonded love tried to storm past me, I whirled and grasped her wrist and swung her down to the floor next to me.

"Silence your protests at such an action. Damn if anyone but you could notice, but I regret what I did. You do not trust me and I understand why, but I have been shunned for a long time and s'slan's hellgates take me if I let one of those that I actually want to trust -want to believe- walk away from me!"

I realized that I was breathing hard, for a reason I did not know. "Your father arranged our binding, and I was starting to think that maybe there was more than just his words too it. So please, don't make me have thought wrong. Forgive what I did this one time and I swear on the marks of our arms that I will not make you regret it."

For a moment all she could do was simply sit on the floor next to her husband, her hand once more snared in his, blinking in a combination of shock and anger, fear and growing effrontery...

...all combined with a deep and as yet unrecognized need to believe him.

But that need was indeed as yet unrecognized, and hence served only to add fuel to her indescribable confusion.

Which was, more than likely, why she was angry.

"Let me go," she finally said, only now something of the edge had disappeared from her tone. Something of the blackness had fled from her eyes.

She pulled against his grasp, tried to get to her feet, but his grip was too strong. Something flared behind her eyes; she settled once more upon the floor, staring up into his own colorful pair.

"Let me go," she repeated, holding herself very still. "I believe what my Father has done with us is somehow very wrong--"

"I know I have done a wrong too you my lady, but I regret it dearly, and beg your forgiveness. So for once, please forgive me and let this one act of foolishness lie."

Not a one coalesced enough to prompt her to rise to her feet.

Suddenly she lifted her face, stared boldly into Rykounagin's eyes.

"There is a difference between a reason and an excuse, and the words you speak to me now explain no reason but are instead in and of themselves an excuse!"

With that she yanked her hand from his and scrambled swiftly to her feet, glaring at Rykounagin as she wiped the back of her hand against her dress.

"I at least can be honest and will make no excuse for my presence here. Truthfully, I came here to seek out my Father, that this horrible farce of a bonding be annulled as soon as possible!"

With that she once more climbed aboard her high horse, pressing it forward with an urgency so sudden that this time she succeeded in bypassing Rykounagin altogether. Seconds later and she was through the door and hurrying down the corridor, a corridor growing more dim and wavery with every passing moment for the tears now welling in her eyes.

Anger? At whom?

As I came alongside her, I saw he look back at me with shock and anger in her expression. Within a moment I had her stopped, hands upon her shoulders. "ShaRhylla, I have tried to explain... tried to excuse my actions. So I shall tell you why I left in pure honesty."

The motion only tightened it; sighing, she pursed her lips a moment as if lost in deep thought. Then she spoke, her voice surprisingly tremulous.

And found something... else.

Something deep within her rose up in protest--

No! You cannot! Your heart is taken, has always been taken, shall always be taken! You are the Dark Rose... His Dark Rose...

--but never quite made it into her conscious thought. So she put down the discomfiture she was experiencing now as yet more general confusion, confusion as to how she should feel toward her husband, and confusion as to how she wanted to feel.

She was not yet ready to let the feeling, whatever it might be, simply come; there was yet too much of the Dark within her to allow her such a liberty. She was still too much Roan's daughter; it would take more than sweet nothings mouthed out of purported love to ever harness her.

But that, too, was something she truly did not know, did not recognize.

"All you had to do was tell me, Rykounagin," she opened at last, reaching out to lightly finger the tome at his waist. It tinkled with a nearly metallic sound, as if its pages weren't made of paper, and the binding of leather. It sounded almost crystalline, and for that captured part of her interest.

"I was honest with you just now. If we are ever to truly become Dark Lord and Lady, we must always be honest with each other."

Not that the Dark lady was dead; oh no. That was something that he had somehow secretly known from the moment the Sith Lord had made so tentative and forlorn contact with him.

It was the remainder of his somewhat terse speech that captured his attention, and gave him pause.

ShaRhylla was in charge, and under the thumb of Roan. And who had been behind his own dear Father's last mysterious disappearance, the last time he had sequestered himself in his Inner Sanctum?

His eyes flew open, studied Phalomir with a calmness far from being felt within his soul.

"I would hope there would be no matter of choice in this," he said gently, nodding to the still body upon the bed which lay in such a mockery of sleep.

"We cannot allow Roan to continue in this; he is dead and he must accept his death. He has no place in the Diamond of the Sith any longer; I will do whatever I can to help you restore the Lady to what rightfully belongs to her.

"Her life."

I smiled slightly, looking to the book in my possession that she had toyed with for a moment. "Let us return to a private place. When we are safe there, then I tell you that I shall be glad to answer any questions you may hold."

“I thank you,” he finally mustered. He felt his strength and confidence returning, here in the presence of friends. Something was going to happen, he could feel it.

“I believe the safest place for her would be with Aelvedaar, but you more than anyone would know if that is true. She holds him in the highest regard, and I am more than willing to ask of his assistance.”

Phalomir looked around the group of friends, and one who would hopefully become a new friend, and spoke louder.

“The Master has a plan, and whether or not we can trust him is irrelevant. The fact is that he holds Jharmeen’s spirit, or claims to, and I will do what it takes to recover her. I do not know how to reunite her spirit and body, but we saw it done before with Terrin, and I will be damned if we do not see it happen with Jharmeen. But the Master has a feud with Roan, and we may be able to use him to our advantage.”

He turned back to Aeylmaar.

He approached the large door and paused, hearing muffled voices within.
Apparently this is where Phalomir went, and if Thoran was going to do this then now was the best time. He mustered his courage and pushed on the door.

It did not open. Something on the other side was blocking it. He looked up and down the hallway, saw nobody, then knocked lightly on the door.

"My Father would give his own life for this Lady, that I know," he said, the truth shining out for the mere simplicity of his words.

"But he has walled himself within his chambers, and is not reacting to my attempts to reach him. Logic would have it that he is merely reacting out of his grief, for I know he loved her very much--"

He paused fractionally, sending Phalomir an apologetic glance before continuing.

"However, there is also the fact that the last time he hid from everyone in his chambers, Roan somehow took hold of him, captured him. Or perhaps that was the Master's doing; I know when he tried to tell me of this event his words were a bit scrambled, as if too painful to be spoken.

"But should this indeed be what has happened again--"

Now he was cut off by a soft knock upon the door. He cast a quick glance about; all seemed frozen in place. So moving forward and placing a gentle hand upon Jasyn's shoulder, he moved the human from where he had been leaning against the door and opened it.

A strange Sith stood without.

The look on Aeylmaar’s face did not alter. Thoran frowned, then bit his lower lip.

Now that was the last name I had expected to hear. Surprise carried me unthinkingly forward; I came up beside Aeylmaar, shouldered past him, stopped and looked up and up into the face of a rather large Sith.

I stood there, hands on my hips.

"Yeah, Terrin's right. Whatever we're going to do we'd better make up our minds and, well... do it. And standing around staring at each other and hanging in hallways isn't going to cut the mustard."

Now that Aeylmaar had shown up, and more than one of us was determined to bring Jharmeen back to her ol' grisly self again, I suddenly found myself feeling worlds better. I turned back and shoved Jasyn in his shoulder.

Taking some action sounded like a good idea. Rather tiring to always be sitting around when the fur hits the turbofan...

He nodded then at Galen and took a step back. "I'm in for getting the hell out of here myself and doing something about all this," he admitted, pretty much stating his former thoughts aloud. "Something tells me whomever wants us to take this layimng down, and perhaps even expects us to. Or maybe they are smart enough to know we are going to do something about this. In either case, let's surprise them...

...and disappoint them in the process as much as we can."

Thoran pushed hard on the door, sending it open the rest of the way and just past Jasyn. Thoran pushed his way inside, then shut the door quickly.

“All right, I’m sorry about that, but I am really nervous about being out there. I don’t know if I can make you believe me on short notice, but if you have a place to go and a way to get there quickly, then I suggest we do it now. Hopefully you are going to preserve Gray here and take her someplace safe? I really truly hope so, or else I might as well leave now.”

He looked around the room at the strange looks he was receiving.

“All right, short version, then we leave. I was a slave to the Master, he made me do it, I am free with the help of a little imp, I want revenge, I can bring her back, not safe here, let’s go. So whoever can do the opening portal thing, do it!”

He stood quiet, listening to the rush of words pouring out of Thoran's mouth, waiting for him to finish before speaking up once more.

"I can take us all to Khar Delba, or anywhere else for that matter," he said, the words simple, his tone very, very polite.

"That is, if all are in agreement as to where--?"

“If you are truly Thoran,” he said calmly, “then in ordinary circumstances the best thing for us all would be for me to kill you here and now.’

Phalomir lifted Thoran off of his feet.

“But these are not ordinary circumstances, and I am most curious to hear this story, especially the part when you explain the phrase ‘he made me do it’.”

Phalomir released Thoran, who coughed to regain his breath.

“You have strange powers, that is true,” continued Phalomir. “But if I for one second suspect you are betraying us, I will kill you.”

“Watch him, my friend, and remember who he says he is,” said Phalomir, turning his head to Panthar. “If you feel it necessary, knock him unconscious.”

He then turned to the bed and bent to pick up Jharmeen’s body. He cradled her in his arms, and visions filled his head of a time that seemed just moments before, when he held her close and felt truly alive for the first time since he could remember.

“Aelymaar,” he said hoarsely. “There is a special grove of trees on the planet Dagobah. Let us at least begin there. It is foremost in my mind, if you need to use our link to find it.”

"It shall be done, and easily," he said simply. Then raising his head he closed his eyes, concentrating on the link established between them, following this neuron, jumping that synapse, flitting through the Sith Lord's mind at the speed of thought itself.

There, in a particularly warm and cherished portion of Phalomir's brain, a ganglion pulsed a brilliant blue. A slow smile spread across Aeylmaar's features as, his eyes still closed in concentration, he continued forward...

And quite suddenly found himself, strangely enough, standing beside a bed laden with silken draperies and tapestries of fur and velvet and richly embroidered upholsteries. It looked completely natural, sitting as it was in the midst of a wild and primal swamp, surrounded by giant gnarl-trees upon whose bark millions of white spiders skittered up and down.

"Ahh yes."

The image of Aeylmaar now within Phalomir's brain actually smiled.

"Spiders."

The smile upon Aeylmaar's own features broadened then as, the movement almost dreamlike, he raised his arm and opened a portal in the fabric of space and time. The rent in the very atmosphere pulsed with a brilliant green light; odd bird-calls and hoots resounded faintly in the opulent chambers of the Dark Lady of the Warriors.

Aeylmaar opened his amber eyes, nodded toward the Portal he had created.

This place she knew of, had heard much of...

...but had never visited herself. Now was the time. For Jharmeen, and for nothing else. For no one else.

So, without hesitation, Shayla took a step inside the portal...

(((OCC: Follow Phalomir, Jharmeen, Panthar, and Thoran into Within the Web of Life in the CSWU.)))

"Well then!" I said with a jocularity I was far from feeling.

"I suppose we can call this a 'here we go again' moment, ey? Been there, done that; anything's better than sticking around here with Rhylla turning our former friends into enemies, huh."

I swallowed thickly, tugged Terrin forward, capturing Darra's hand en route and dragging her along with us as well. A quick glance caught the rest of Terrin's men coming along in our wake; the only one not moving was the darkly shadowed individual who had been standing quietly off to one side after making his somewhat mystifying comment about Jharmeen's death.

Even from where we stood within Jharmeen's chambers the scent of greenness and moisture and overpowering life hit me. I drew in another deep breath, relishing the taste after so much darkness and death.

"Well, I hope Fido can find us; he did say he was going to help us too ya know--"

Still muttering along these lines I stepped into the portal, dragging my husband and daughter along with me, hoping the rest of our party would follow and not balk at the very last minute. I mean, Jasyn had spoken fightin' words moments ago, but this sure as Khaandon made li'l green worrts was gonna separate him from his beloved Sith brandy...

((OOC: Galen, Terrin and Darra follow Aeylmaar et. al. into Within the Web of Life in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

I bade her sit upon the fur-covered four-poster bed that dominated the room. "I assume you have many questions my lady, so I do invite you to ask."

But better to be on the move than to stand here and become Sithy fodder, he figured, and stated as much to his companion who nodded in agreement. So he stepped on through the portal, Matt following after, to a sight he couldn't have even dreamed up after an evening's worth of brandy consumption...

Not that she feared him, no. She knew she was more than a match for even his honed magickal abilities. But even though she was furious with her father for subjecting her to this marriage, she hadn't quite divorced him completely from her heart. For now it would be best to suffer quietly along, and see where all might lead.

So she allowed Rykounagin to treat her softly, gently, using the anger to silently hone her mind. As soon as he had settled her upon the bed and made his final comment, she was more than ready with a reply.

"Yes, I do have questions," she shot back.

"Tell me more of this book; why it called out to you, and more importantly, what did it tell you? And why in all the universe would you concern yourself with such a thing anyway, when you are now a far greater thing than a mere--"

She sniffed, staring distastefully down her nose.

I ran a finger over the binding of the book and looked at it, slightly bemused. "It told me why I changed this way. It's part of the blood harvest that's comming up. An old tradition in a way."

I looked up from the tome. "It taught me many old and forgotten traditions of the cult, many... arts that are no longer in practice." I picked it up and held it in one hand, then tossed it aside and smiled at her.

"Then you shall need this-- this thing no longer. I do not wish it to distract you further, or to ever come between us again."

With that she flicked out one hand in an almost offhanded gesture, aimed directly at the ancient Assassin's book. it immediately burst into flame, dissolved into ash, which in turn dissipated into thin air.

The dark gleam in ShaRhylla's eyes turned feral.

"Actually, Rykounagin, I am quite pleased that this little... event transpired. For it brought a small matter to my attention, one which I feel we should immediately deal with. Indeed I have taken the first steps in doing so; My Lord-"

Smiling prettily, she scooted over closer to Rykounagin, snuggled up against him, reached up one slender hand to toy deftly with a lock of his hair.

"It would please me greatly to rid our society of this blight, this unneeded blotch that has existed within our population for far too long a time.

As it faded, I began to catch her words:"...please me greatly to rid our society of this blight, this unneeded blotch that has existed within our population for far too long a time. I wish to eliminate the Cult of Assassins altogether; destroy every bit of their artistry, their artifacts, their devices, their secrets and traditions. Bury them so deeply that nothing will unearth them, not even if given the rest of eternity in which to do so."

I smiled faintly at this, already thoughts of destroying he I hated most of all coursing through my black heart. "I shall gladly perform such a duty for my dark lady."

I placed an arm around her side gently and turned to regard her, my eyes catching her own sight-seeing depths. "Tomorrow I shall leave with a squad of warriors to aid in the tracking- and to bear witness to the destruction of the ancient flaw. I know of only one surviving member. And I think I know how to find him."

I smiled and in turn with my dark lady's hand, ran a fingertip between her scarlet locks, another finger gently brushing the side of her horns. "It will be a privelege and honor to erase him from existance... I have long awaited the chance."

ShaRhylla closed her eyes, snuggled against Rykounagin more closely. Let herself flow limpidly against him.

"Whoever this remaining member is, I wish his head brought to me. I wish every last trace of everything having to do with this cult totally eradicated from our worlds within a fortnight.

"There should be no one to bring it back, and no means by which to ever do such a thing. Quite the contrary; I wish you to eliminate this hazard so thoroughly and in such a manner that it would strike terror into the heart of anyone who would dare to even think of trying."

Turning her face to his, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him, one fang peeping from beneath her lips.

"I will let him die in a most agonizing way..." I let out a quiet chuckle, and closed my eyes. "And if you wish... I shall have you brought to be present to watch an ancient and foul dynasty end."

I exhaled slowly, and as I did so, I felt as though something had left me. Humanity? My past? Whatever it was, it had lifted a burden, and as I inhaled, I felt myself take in something new... something stronger...

"Indeed, it is best to feast before the slaughter, is it not?" she smiled up at him, then gave no further thought to anything other than gaining the Dining Hall that they might break their fast.

I looked too my dark lady, and smiled faintly. "I think finding a proper vessel is in order for the purging. Will you attend me? Or shall you stay in the temple?"

"Why, but of course I will attend you," she smiled as sweetly as she was able, one fang peeping out upon her lip.

"What in all the universe would bind me here, affairs of state? Pah; not a subject I wish to entertain at the moment."

Coming around the table she came up to Rykounagin and stood before him.

"A politician I most certainly am not; shall we go then, and on the route you may perhaps regale me with the delicious ideas that are undoubtedly running through your mind..."

"There are many things in my mind. I hold no love for the assassin that I shall seek, and I have many thoughts as to how to dispose of him. There could be a flesh knit," As I spoke, entered the garden, the gentle nature of the place unnoticed by my harsh thoughts. ", in which I would remove his flesh and create a bolt of leather from it while he still breathed."

I smirked at the image of Sa'kal screaming in raw agony as I performed the deed.

"Or perhaps a Kekin'agrin, a wire cacoon. In this, I should wrap him in a net of micro razor wire, attach said wires to hooks, and then let him fall. The result is quite effective I can assure you."

I remembered the time my father, my old father, had caught a mynock, and seen it as an excellent example. He had done the said task, and that night we had feasted upon very fine, but most disgusting slices of meat.

"I could also merely eviscerate him, but that would be poor sport." I chuckled at the thought of watching his head merely roll across the floor.

As we progressed towards the starport, I continued naming many various and gruesome ways to undo the single individual I sought to destroy, from slicing to burning, to voiding him in space and seeing how long his body held it's preassure together.

"This is a matter of your choice, my Lord," she smiled darkly, her eyes glittering.

"For what do I, a simple Lady, know of such dark deeds? Let your background arise one final time in the elimination of the same; this is most pleasing to me, and is something I could never come close to even imagining myself doing."

Yet even as she spoke the words she could not help but feel an unexpected little grumble, deep in her core, as if some abyssal, forgotten portion of her very self disapproved of the words she now spoke.

"Of course you wouldn't..." I murmured, looking over the various sith fighters. "It seems a sith fighter will be our vessel."

"Tell me-" I said, turning back towards the underground. ", do you have a recommendation of warriors to accompany me upon this small crusade?"

She could do as she pleased... and at the moment what pleased her was to just rest there, sipping upon her freshly filled goblet, twining a lock of her luxurious hair about one finger while she eyed her new lord and husband.

It had been... fun assisting him in choosing the strongest of the warriors to accompany him. Though that he didn't need so much as one to come along didn't deter her in the slightest as, after having returned to the temple from Ch'arlingua, where the fastest of the fighters had been ordered to begin preparations for morning departure, she led him to the barracks in the temple proper. There she had prowled the offerings like a hungry tuk'ata, running her eyes over this one, her hands over another, and letting Rykounagin know which ones she thought were the ablest.

Not to mention the most loyal.

Now, the comfort of the small lounge in the rear of the Dining Hall was their reward.

She smiled again at her recent memories and took another sip.

"Perhaps I could be tempted to stay... of course, we could always call for more and have our own private party..." Some part of him knew how cliche' it was to say that, but yet again, this was not his most clear of thoughts.

"I-- I find this moment to be surprisingly--

"One of content," she finished, a bit embarrassed yet emboldened by the brandy. Twisting her head she stared up at Rykounagin, taking in his features which were oddly distorted by the angle.

Somewhere deep inside of her, something rose to its feet with a low growl, something trying to awaken something else within her, reminding her, warning her, bidding her to remember...

"What course do we follow?" He smiled, leaning his head down towards her, turning so that he was facing her in a peculiar lopsided way that paralelled her own. "What is it that those newly together and with such conditions, do? Please do tell me."

"What do those new to each other do? Why--"

Her eyes suddenly widened, growing at first vague and then black as ink as from somewhere hidden behind the carefully orchestrated barriers her mother had placed within her psyche something managed to break through.

We rend and slash and let the blood and sup upon it, for the Blood is the Life, even the darkest blood of all...

The door slammed closed.

She blinked, worked her mouth a little bit, torn between attempting to be as seductive as she imagined herself to be and brazenly throwing herself upon Rykounagin's throat, for a reason she could not truly fathom.

Confusion was left in the wake; blinking again, she tried to focus her eyes upon his.

"...for there is much that I would gladly know..." I smiled, realizing for that the first time, he was not afraid. I was not concerned with other things, but simply now stood in a small bubble of unbreakable space with my Dark Lady.

"...of my Dark Lady."

"What do you wish to know?" she purred, letting her hands creep upward to part the front of the shirt Rykounagin was wearing. In an instant they were beneath the cloth, digging a bit sharply into his chest.

Her smile took on a dark note as she stood there, dismissing utterly the somewhat shocked looks coming from the other patrons within the lounge, who were obviously not used to seeing their Lady behave in so unseemly a manner in public.

ShaRhylla didn't even come close to caring. She merely tightened her grip, digging her pearly claws into Rykounagin's flesh while the tip of her tongue crept out to wet her lips.

I punctuated this with a mildly pained grimace, something more primal within me enjoying her sadistic embrace, casting a threatening glance at those who stared, daring them to continue as my arms pulled her close.

Her eyes widened into twin pools of oil, their extraordinary violet and turquoise coloration completely blanked out. It was as if the only thing to exist within her eye sockets were her pupils, which had grown to an unnatural size, and which now fixated upon something not quite of this dimension.

...but in the moments yet to come.

Gripping him tightly, fiercely, she reached out with her innate talents then, striving to find a particular beauty once lost, that she could share it with her new husband, and in the sharing bind him more tightly to her than ever before.

The rending was almost as an afterthought as space and time shuddered and yowled...

...and ShaRhylla gleefully ushered her husband into the Darker Realms.

In their chambers the bottle of brandy stood as mute witness to the peculiar folding of the fabric of what is, a folding which engulfed the pair and transported them away in a twinkling of an eye.

((OOC: Follow ShaRhylla and Rykounagin into Into the Out Of in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

I looked down to her eyes, and with the humor that I could muster, spoke: "What is it that I shall learn of you here?"

(((OOC: Rykounagin and ShaRhylla carry over into "Into the Out of" in this forum, thankyou.)))