Closing the Portal behind the departing Aelomir, I heave another sigh. Then, my thoughts heavy, I step through the Portal I have created, pausing for a second to drink in the odd sensation of having two feet firmly on two different worlds.

Coming out fully into the Great Dining Hall of the Temple of the Warriors on K'eel Doba, I pause and wait the few seconds it takes Lord Phalomir to follow suite.

Closing the Portal then, I turn to him, my hands concealed within the voluminous sleeves of my robes.

“Many times I have been in this hall,” he said. “Each time it seems with a different emotion. Elation, fear, trepidation, determination, love, despair. This time I come with none, save what little hope I still harbor. We must find her, Lord Aelvedaar, and hold council as the Clans. Formally. Division has brought this about, we must now stand as a race. We must know now if she will stand for her house with us or if her intent lies elsewhere.”

Phalomir caught the eye of a serving girl, her head immediately lowering. He raised his hand to her, beckoning.

“And, my Lord, I must know. I must see it with my own eyes and feel it with my own heart before I can accept it.”

The girl came quickly to the two Dark Lords and bowed deeply.

"Umm-- my Lord--" she began but faltered to a stop beneath the piercing gaze Phalomir gave her. Motioning for the two Lords to follow her, she led them quickly to the Receiving Room, bowed again, and quickly made herself scarce.

It wasn't long before another Sith entered the room, his own nervousness shown by the unsteadiness of his tread. He came up before Phalomir and Aelvedaar, took one look at the tattooes the pair bore, and immediately dropped to one knee.

"My Lords," he began, the tone of his voice breathless with awe.

"I regret to inform you that the Dark Lady has left K'eel Doba; she stated she has information regarding her missing daughter and has gone with her new Second to fetch the lady back home.

"Y-your... suite, m'Lord?" he ventured at length, obviously at a loss as to what Phalomir was speaking of. Then he gathered his wits about himself:

If the Dark Lady trusted him enough to place him in charge during her absence, then he would do all in his power to justify that trust.

"Ah-yes, my Lord; all is as you previously left it. Do you need escort to them? I will be sending for one for the Lord of Sorcerers; I can send for an escort for you as well."

"Oh dear," he began, quite frankly wondering just how to answer the Dark Lord. For all he knew of what had happened to Salandaar was via the grapevine of the Temple; ought he inform the Lords of what he had heard in this manner, or feign innocence in the matter?

He blinked, fidgeting. And fidgeting wasn't a mannerism often seen in a warrior of the Sith.

"He was sliced up by a creature from hell, sent by S'slan no doubt to remind him to alter his wicked ways; of those acts which would warrant such retribution I know nothing, unfortunately. But I do know his injuries were horrendous, although he has managed to come back to us from the brink of death."

Hoping he had covered all the bases, the Sith quickly rang for yet another servant, who appeared seemingly from thin air before them. He too took one look at the pair of Lords before falling to the stone floor, groveling.

"Show these Lords to the High Chambers," the other Sith stated haughtily, before reducing his own demeanor by tens of degrees until he appeared nearly as slavering as the servant yet mewling at the Lords' feet.

"He will show you the way, m'Lords."

“Salandaar’s ways are far from wicked,” he said with authority. “And he was no more punished for his ways than you were ever rewarded for yours. He gave himself in the duty of his Dark Lady, and fought beside me with a bravery and honor unmatched by any in the ranks of Warriors. I wish to visit him within the hour, and I expect to find him under the greatest of care and in a state of maximum recuperation. Anything less than the highest attention to his health is not only an insult to the greatest of the Royal Guards, but to the Dark Lady herself. I am certain you shall see to finding him, and informing me when this is done.”

He turned then to the other servant.

“You may escort us both to Lord Aelvedaar’s chambers, and call for me within mine when Salandaar is located.”

The automatic responses came in total synchrony as with a bow the two Sith replied each to his own task. While the summoned servant turned a bit to one side, indicating the direction in which the two Dark Lords should go, the other waited, horns scraping the stone floor, until they had departed to the High Chambers. Only then daring to rise, he heaved a breath, calmed himself and hastened off to the Royal Healing Chamber, the penultimate of the myriad such chambers which dotted the labyrinthine temple

Coming inside was like stepping into another universe. All was dim, silent; the very shadows seemed to whisper quiet promises to those who lay within while Healers moved like gray wraiths from one bedside to another.

The Second Pro Temp stood a moment at the door before his searching gaze settled on a familiar figure: Salandaar, sitting upright, joking quietly with an apprentice nurse as he pretended that he was going to leave his sickbed. The young female Sith gave him a mock horrified smile, batted her eyes prettily and laid a gentle hand against his chest, bidding him to remain still.

The Second Pro Temp only thinned his lips to see this, then scurried to Salandaar's side. A pair of aquamarine eyes pinned him to the spot scarcely had he come to a halt.

"What is it you wish?" Salandaar said in a steady tone, all the while brushing aside the abortive attempts by his nursemaid to keep him quiet. The other Sith merely bowed his head, and quickly outlined all that had occurred.

This of course prompted Salandaar to rise from the bed in earnest, so earnestly in fact as to move in a manner not conducive to keeping his wounds annealed. He winced, feeling the warmth of fresh blood welling from his side as one of the magick patches placed there loosened; grunting, he sank back against the pillows and allowed the nursemaid to attend to him before she ran off to fetch back a Healer once again.

Salandaar turned a humorous, if weak, smile upon the other Sith.

"It seems I will not be able to receive the Lords in a manner more fitting to their station," he announced with a rueful little laugh.

"While I would prefer to speak with them on my own two feet, from the sound of it matters cannot wait that long.

"Please, hasten back to the Dark Lords, and inform them that Salandaar is ever their lowly and obedient servant."

The Second Pro Tamp nodded, turned, and fled the sickroom, giving Salandaar the moment of privacy he needed so badly, a moment allowing him to hiss out a breath of pained air as he gingerly settled himself into the cushions. Then, smiling up at the nursemaid once more, he went back to his little routine of insisting he be let go.

He wasn't anywhere near convincing.

I turn to my companion, ready to make some comment or another when there comes along the Link I have with my Son a sudden call:

((OOC: Comes from Silence of the Lambs in the "Jedi/Sith forums, thank you)):

"Father, those on Dagobah have apparently fallen into some sort of distress. While I do not know of the particulars, it was requested that I contact you and pass this message along..."

This is so surprising and sudden that I come to a halt where I stand. But I have not achieved the title that I have by being the owner of a flighty nature; scarce moments have passed before I turn to Phalomir, utterly composed, and via a secret magick that any big ears about us might not hear I pass along what I have just been made privy to.

"Indeed, that is the best course to follow, since magick generally cures far more ills than does the waving about of a weapon."

I smile a little at Lord Phalomir, keeping to myself the thought that, even though the odds were with me, whatever it is which ails our little group did indeed have a chance of being something best left for a warrior or armorer to handle.

But Phalomir has spoken; drawing in a deep breath then, I reach out with my talents, seeking back to my home planet where a Portal I had opened yet remains so, and follow it to another planet impossible light-years distant...

...where the Portal's twin yet glimmers. Now having a secure connection, I say nothing else but stretch out a clawed hand to rend yet another opening directly betwixt and between the fabric of all that is. The rent glistens black and green and ruby red, and from its depths there comes the vivid scent of living things.

"I should not be long," I state then as with no further ado I step forth into the rift I have created, and thus leave the Temple of the Warriors altogether.

((OOC: FOllow Lord Aelvedaar into Into the Undiscovered Deeps in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

“Go with the speed of the eagle, my friend,” he said.

Phalomir paused and looked around him, taking in the stone hallways. Memories came beating at the doorways of his mind, and he stepped backwards to lean against the wall. He recalled his first entrance into the Temple of Warriors, before he knew what he was. He was trapped inside the body of the human Panthar Dantares, just a spirit without form. A strange sensation indeed.

He found himself walking through the hallways, looking at the various carvings and symbols. Servants walked here and there, each bowing and making way for the Dark Lord, but his distant eyes barely seemed to notice. Not paying close attention to where he walked, he found that his feet had carried him to the hallway leading to the Dark Lady’s chambers. Here he stopped, staring at the floor.

He placed a great hand on the wall and slowly sank to his knees. His other hand touched the stone floor, his fingertips grazing it.

“It was here,” he said softly. “This is where I last saw her. The spot where my love fell, and where my heart tore itself to splinters.” He closed his eyes and drifted back to the night before that morning, when he and Jharmeen had spent the night on Dagobah, under a moon of…

A shuffle from behind brought Phalomir back. He turned his head and opened his eyes upon a nervous servant. Phalomir sighed and stood, towering over the young Sith.

"Salandaar is awake, and bids me carry the message to you that he is ever your humble servant. He is this way, m'Lord."

“It is very good to hear that news,” he said. “Show me the way.”

With that, the servant turned and beckoned Phalomir to follow. Phalomir’s long strides kept a brisk pace and the servant struggled to stay ahead. Phalomir slowed a bit, and soon was led to the healing chamber.

Phalomir stood in the doorway, filling its frame. He did not need the servant to point out Salandaar, and a smile came to Phalomir’s face as he saw the warrior, a nurse standing next to his bed. He walked quickly to the bed and placed his hand on the ornate bedpost at Salandaar’s foot.

“I knew I need only look for the pretty nurses, and I would find Salandaar,” he said. The nurse smiled coyly and curtseyed, gave Salandaar a stern look that was betrayed by the sparkle in her eyes, and excused herself.

“How are you, my friend?” asked Phalomir.

"My Lord, it is good to see you," he said, managing to keep his voice from faltering although he could not help but grunt a little at the end. Quickly covering up an instinctive grimace with a smile, he looked up at Phalomir and tried to shift upon the bed again. The pretty nurse, who had been hovering nearby, let out a small gasp, and motioned to a Healer. That worthy came closer to investigate, shouldering up to Salandaar's side as if there wasn't a Dark Lord in his presence.

Salandaar shrugged in apology, the grin still plastered on his face, though by now beads of sweat were springing up on his brow.

"What brings you to Phrinnchatka, my friend?" he finished before submitting to the stern looks and mutters spewed forth from the Healer, and nestled back once more against his pillows.

“You would serve your station better to attend to your healing,” he said, “rather than appeal to the vanity of a Dark Lord. Stay down, listen to your healers, and recover as quickly as you possibly can.”

Phalomir looked to the healer and nodded.

“There are things of import that I must speak to you about,” he said. “If you recall the conversation we were having just before your – accident, I have more information. But for now, I shall be content to watch the skill of your healer, who I am certain shall have you on your feet in no time.”

Phalomir winked and then looked directly at the healer.

"I can only do so much, m'Lord," he was now saying as with deft hands he outlined a magickal sigil above Salandaar's torso, nodding as after glowing an eerie sea-green it deepened to ultramarine and glued itself to the spot. There it flared, provoking another groan into squirting out from Salandaar's pinched lips, before finally disappearing from sight altogether.

The Healer then waited a moment longer, ascertaining that the patch was going to hold before giving his patient a final stern look. Salandaar merely rolled his eyes once more, and waved at him in as nonchalant a manner that he could manage, considering his circumstance.

"I will heal, these are mere flesh wounds. I am more concerned of what unknown straits we might be sailing into; Dark Lords do not usually take themselves into Healing Chambers unless they have a very strong reason to do so."

Pausing a moment, he looked at Phalomir boldly.

"How might I serve you, m'Lord?" he finished with, grunting then and sinking back upon his bed with a little sigh.

“Just before your attack,” he began, “we had a strange situation on our hands. The Dark Lady was found dead, but it was proven to be a hoax perpetuated by her daughter, ShaRhylla. Much has happened since then, but remember as we delve that there is still a shapeshifter in the employ of ShaRhylla, possibly still within the temple.”

Phalomir lowered his head.

“Jharmeen rescued me from the Darker Realms, a creature known as the Master had taken me. It used to be my father before it was consumed by the darkness of that realm. On our return here, for no apparent reason, she--”

Phalomir paused, then looked Salandaar in he eyes, trying to remain steady.

“She died, for real. But not for real, because her spirit had been assassinated by an agent of the Master. That agent, a Sith known as Thoran, broke free from his servitude and aided us in rescuing her spirit. It is a long story, but in the end the darkness that inhabited my father was cast out and her spirit was rescued. But I fear the same darkness has become part of Jharmeen now, and perhaps even her Adept Shayla. They have vanished, gone in search of ShaRhylla.”

Phalomir exhaled a long breath.

“There is much more than this, but to reach the point you need to know I shall be brief. I await for the Dark Lady and Shayla to return here. I am with Lord Aelvedaar, and we must meet her. On a personal level, I must know if she has become what has been described to me. Regardless of what I discover, Aelvedaar and I shall request a meeting of the Triad, to address matters of state. I wish to unify the Sith once more, my friend, under the old ways, to face great dangers to us all. I know your unquestioning loyalty to the Dark Lady, and I only wish to be aware of her recent trials.”

He placed a gentle hand on Salandaar, trying to find a spot that was not injured.

“And I want you to know of my undying love for her,” he said. “I would never do anything to harm her, but I have been selfishly wrapped in my feelings and must now take my place as statesman. I hold you in the highest respect of anyone, and will not fault you for following orders from her that may place me in danger. I just do not know what to expect from her, I sincerely hope Aelvedaar is wrong.”

He moved his hand from Salandaar to wipe it down his own face. Resuming his composure, he faced the warrior once more.

"This is... disturbing," he began carefully. "Although I had some idea as to the machinations of the young Heiress Apparent, I had no idea she would stoop to such degradations as she apparently had. And while I had a run-in with a demon from Hell, I was not aware that we had a shapeshifter in our midst."

He paused again, pondering; then after a moment he lifted his head and went on.

"I shall inform the guards to be alert to this danger, and shall have each Sith within these walls, both myself and yourself included m'Lord, scanned by Sorcerer's magicks to make certain that we are all who we seem to be. And as for the Dark Lady..."

Again he paused. Again his eyes grew cloudy, but this time it was heartfelt pain that filled them. He grimaced, whether from the agony of the terrible wounds he had received from the demonic imp or that of this unexpected disclosure Phalomir could only guess.

The issue was settled by the next words to come forth from Salandaar's lips.

"I hold my allegiance to the Dark Lady Jharmeen Q'utaro," he stated in the manner that a captured soldier states only his name and rank to the enemy. Drawing in a breath, he continued.

"But only to her. If there is some horrible Darkness now inhabiting her, some terrible evil to have taken possession of her, I want to state here and now that I owe no allegiance to it.

"I shall do all in my power to uphold the integrity, honor and safety of the Sith, and offer my right arm and life if need be to restore the Dark Lady of the Warriors back to herself once again.

"If this indeed is a possibility... and if indeed it is something that has in reality happened to her."

The remainder of their trip passed in a dark silence, one heavy with thoughts of retribution. Shayla was just in the process of replaying just what she would do to Rykounagin if given the opportunity, a darkeness budding within her that, for the first time, was truly real, when the proximity sigil of the Sith fighter grabbed her attention.

"At last, we are almost there,"Shayla said aloud, reaching for the reversion sigil as the countdown continued. When it timed out, she punched the sigil, and hyperdriven stars sequed into a planet, in closer proximity to the fighter than a normal ship would be able to withstand.

Shayla smiled a dark little smile, keenly aware of the large blockade behind them. "There are many things even Imperial technology cannot match," she scoffed, beginning the process of bringing the fighter into atmosphere. Even as she did so, the fighter locked on to a somehow "programmed" course in its navbrain, and began its decent to Char'lingua.

Phalomir returned Salandaar’s stare, his eyes intense and damp.

"I find it... unusual that you did not ask the Revealer for this information when you first had the opportunity," she sniffed down her nose, becoming more and more the haughty young Heiress Apparent now that they were back in K'eel Doban space. But after giving Shayla another considering look, and not so much seeing as sensing the newly sprouted seed of blackness growing unimpeded in the young woman's soul, she loosened up, allowing herself to soften a bit.

"But then, things are easily overlooked at times," she amended, her brow lowering as that casual comment brough forth another fresh wash of images from her memory: images of Entaris, and her Father, and now Rykounagin.

How easily the emotion of love let me overlook their true intentions! she scowled to herself, turning once more to Shayla.

"I wish to go straight there, the minute we land. I can get us a private transport; as the Dark La--"

She paused a fraction, her eyes growing dark. Then she gave herself over to a theatrical sigh.

"--ady's daughter, I do have some allowances that others do not."

Shayla smiled, once more marvelling at the little fighter's agility. Getting back to her feet then, she stretched slightly, turning to ShaRhylla who was standing as well. Shayla punched a final sigil on the fighter, whose engines were now cooling.

She didn't bother stopping to see if Shayla was behind her or not, but kept going the moment her feet hit tarmac. Now nearly running, her light and expectant panting exposing pearly fangs, she soon covered the distance from their ship across the spaceport to where the public transport system lay. Ignoring that, she hurried into a particularly inset doorway, one richly adorned with mysterious glowing sigils.

Pausing only long enough to study them she let her fingers fly over the heiroglyphs, tapping out a code known only to those of royalty and ones they chose to make privy to this. The door slid open, revealing the interior of an elegantly appointed four person transport. Windows in its heavy steel frame allowed the rider views fore, aft, and to the sides; smiling, she hopped inside and plopped into a seat. There she turned, calling out impatiently.

"Come, come; the system is on hold until we leave. I don't care a whit if everyone has to wait hours to go to whatever dreary places they desire to, but I wish to get to the Great Library as fast as we can!"

Stepping out of the transport, both Shayla and ShaRhylla hurried into the Library, Shayla's gait perhaps not quite as ferocious and a little more measured than that of the younger woman. Thus it was that when she entered the Great Library the Revealer was already responding to ShaRhylla's presence there.

A Question! it said eagerly.

But when it finally said, "A Question..."

"Show me where Rykounagin is!" she growled.

Immediately then she froze in place as all about her the roiling, concentric spheres whirled and bounded, taking up equilateral positions from each other then igniting into magnificent golden-greenness which gradually resolved into the image of two men.

One was Rykounagin. The other was the Master. Another prompt from the halfling revealed their exact location to her.

"They're on the K'eel Doban moon!" she crowed, whirling about to face Shayla, dark eagerness glinting in her eyes.

"So near to us now; we haven't far to go to bring about his demise!"

So anxious was she to obtain her simple and bloodthirsty vengeance that it didn't even cross her mind to ask just why the Master was there with him. Nor did she think to ask what it was they were discussing.

All she saw was an apparently injured Rykounagin... who was fading away more and more, obscured by the growing cloud of red now dancing in her eyes.

Immediately the Revealer shifted to portray the three-demensional image of the Lord Aelvedaar opening a portal for the Master from his Sanctum Sanctorum on Khar Delba. Not only was the Master with him, but Phalomir was also present.

Shayla slitted her eyes further. "What is the Master discussing with Rykounagin?"

Immeidately a lengthy conversation played out which had been occurring within the confines of Rykounagin's ruined fighter; a conversation dealing with the Master's irritation that Graysith had obtained balance instead of himself, of the Tower being restored, of the doppleganger of Roan lurking now in the Darker Realms...

...and of Rykounagin's request that ShaRhylla receive the position of Dark Lady of the Warriors that she deserved.

"He has no right to state such lies; he ran away from me!" she snapped, now clenching her fists so tightly so as to keep tears at bay that her claws pierced her own palms, sending trickles of violet blood dripping to the floor of the Library. She paid them no heed, but used all of her strength then to gather her wits, to regain control of herself.

Not to mention to channel that sudden uprush of grief into an even deeper, soul-firing rage. Beside herself, she waved at the images around them.

"What do we care of all this pap; this is all of the Darker Realms!" she spat.

"Why need we worry of that; it is the place of the Dead, and the only good it will do us is that within those realms I can maintain Rykounagin on the precipice of near-death for eternity if I so desire!"

She spat again, and was readying another thoughtless comment when something utterly strange occurred. Not strange in and of itself, but taken in the context of ShaRhylla it was strange almost unto the point of wonder. Perhaps a touch of her mother's intelligence rose up from a particular allele, now given leave to express itself. Perhaps it was that of her father's military cunning; whatever the reason or source, the fact of the matter was that for once in her short life the halfling actually thought.

She put two and two together... and recoiled from the impossible number produced.

"Why need we worry... Shayla! This is all he speaks of: the Tower, the Darker Realms; nothing of the living! Why is this?"

She turned her eerie eyes toward Shayla for a moment before posing the Question the Revealer was already in the process of answering:

"Why is the concern so wrapped up in the Darker Realms? Why should this be a worry to us?"

The balls moved, danced and pirhouetted about them, once more forming a three-dimensional design in the air at equal distances from each other. In the middle of them an image grew, larger and larger, until it encompassed ShaRhylla and Shayla and the Library and perhaps all of Creation itself:

It was a ship of yorik coral, howling through hyperspace, a grimly-cloaked being at command. His eyes were an eerie chrome and ultramarine blue, and upon his visage was Death itself.

ShaRhylla paused, drinking in the sight, something niggling deeply in the back of her memory.

"I-- I know this--" she whispered, then fell into an uncomfortable silence, one which remained unbroken until the Revealer prompted them once more.

"A Question?" it asked politely.

She knew those eyes too. They had been aboard that ship, when Roan had taken Graysith there and Shayla had switched places with her to save her.

Shayla's eyes widened. But had Roan been the one to do this? How long had Roan been a doppleganger?

"How long has Dark Lord Roan been dead?" Shayla asked the Revealer. As the number splayed forth above the images that it had been playing, Shayla's chin dropped.

Then all this time...

She took another step back. "Who is the connection between the Darker Realms and those who are coming?" she queried.

The spheres shifted, and three three-demensional images, first of Entaris, then of the tar-man, and finally of no one other than the Master himself, played back to back.

Shayla took in a quick breath. "What is it that they want?"

Immediately on the wings of this question, the spheres moved once more, and between them a three-demensional map of multiple galaxies burst forward.

Once more the Revealer prompted, but Shayla didn't hear its words for the thoughts and connections now scrolling through her mind.

Her Father. Her dear, beloved Father, whom she now hated with every fiber of her being for using her as he had...

Wasn't even Dark Lord Ankrist Roan at all.

Her mouth opened, gaping. She snapped it shut, cutting a glance down to stare at the Tattoo of Entitlement upon her wrist. It seemed to smile back, mocking her as He had, as they all had, claiming her life as but a toy it could play with...

That He could play with.

Then logic took hold of her, shook her.

Mother. She was, improbably enough, still in line for inheritance via her Mother, who was yet the Dark Lady of the Sith. But not by blood.

Not. By. Blood.

Her mouth opened in a rictus of fresh anger and grief, and she fell to her knees, staring dully at the images even as they faded back into the relative obscurity of the essence of the Library itself.

"We must make certain Mother remains Dark Lady, no matter what!" she whispered, gulping a bit.

"Nothing can happen to her; Revealer! Show us that this is true!"

Once again the device responded, obediently showing them yet another image:

One of Dark Lord Phalomir, standing atop the courtyard of the Temple of the Warriors, his arms raised, Sith robes of royalty flowing down around him in decadent opulence. Beside him stood her Mother:

Dull of eye. Sad of feature. Holding a babe in her arms.

And as she watched Jharmeen JhinDar Q'utaro approached the crennelation, climbed atop it, turned to Lord Phalomir...

And fell backwards from that great height to her death.

No. No, no, No!

And it was in this moment that she finally realized how correct Graysith had been while they were on Degobah, perhaps without even really being fully aware of her accuracy.

Power, not love. For in Love, one is blind and may fall to those in Power whom she loves.

"They control us by using what Love we have for them!" Shayla snarled, anger boiling in her. "This will not happen, it won't!" she insisted in determination, tears glinting her eyes nevertheless. "The female triad must come to rule the Sith...

...or else the entire Galaxy and all those without it will fall into slavery and darkness..."

Shayla trailed, then looked directly to ShaRhylla. "Together we can stop this, despite how others may feel we've turned against them. For in turning against them, we will save them all."

So long ago, he thought. Merely days, but it seems so long since I last spoke with her.

Days? Yes, it had been days since he had eaten. Though most of those had been spent caught between time, held in a loop by Lord Aelvedaar. He walked into the hall and took a bit of meat, and walked back out of the room and eventually out of the temple, set to wander the streets of the capital city. In his nondescript clothing, he was able to pass without much heed from the citizens.

The fresh air did him well, and the events of the past few days sifted through his mind. He tried to put Jharmeen from his thoughts, for there were many questions still to be answered. She would return soon enough, and his questions to her would be answered at that time.

For now, however, the issue of the shapeshifter was now in the hands of the Warriors and he begin to deal with the other items of import. There were too many loose ends to allow hanging, too many questions left unanswered.

He had killed Roan, yet the tattoo of entitlement upon his face was not lit. Why did he not, by trial of combat, become Dark Lord? Was it because of Recinis? Or was it something else?

It was easy to see through ShaRhylla’s part in the initial ruse of Jharmeen’s death, but who had put her up to it? One could assume, through other evidence gathered, that Roan was manipulating this world from beyond the grave, but how could he be so influential? How could he possess the power needed, when a shade possesses no such power? Roan had a strong spirit, but even he could not have held the All within him as a shade. Could he? It was why the Master held such a high position within that realm, for he was flesh and was given the powers of both the All and of the darkness, however that worked.

And what of the Armorers? He wanted to rebuild the Clan, but the homeworld was lost in the Elseness, never to be taken from it at the command of All Which Is. Where, then, could a new Temple be built? Well, that at least was one question that could be given a tangible answer. And research could begin immediately, and would give his troubled mind something to do while he waited for Jharmeen.

His feet had been secretly conspiring with his mind, for he found himself already near the place he needed to be to begin such research. A smile of recollection crossed his face, as he recalled the other times spent in this building. His smile widened as he realized the “closed for repair” sign had been taken down, and he opened to door to the Great Library.

But the Revealer was already in use.

Phalomir’s eyes widened, and genuine delight danced across his face.

Her mother MIGHT fall from the Temple, falling away from this Sith at whose side she had been standing-- or she might not. It had yet to happen; that was but one future path down which she might trod. But...

...the Revealer was not built to show such things. It was designed to show the observer what WAS, what HAD HAPPENED, how and why... how could it now reveal that which might yet be?

Had someone tampered with it? Who would have such power? What would it rise from; more than likely the Clan of the..

She tensed further, eyeing the tattooes and sigils Lord Phalomir wore which denoted his title of Dark Lord of the Armorers.

If this was something that he had somehow manipulated, possibly with the assistance of the Sorcerers, the question now was...

Why?

In this scenario, the babe her mother was holding would therefore NOT be the offspring of the two, as she had first assumed, but another one.

But who? And why had the Revealer chosen to display this particular image: what was the nexus? The death of her Mother?

Or the death of the babe?

Aching now to slip off somewhere that she could discuss her thoughts with Shayla, for by now the halfling simply did not trust the Revealer any longer, she drew attention to herself by rising smoothly to her feet.

...Shayla instead remained remarkable inscrutable, turning to face Phalomir without so much as the bat of an eye or the hint of any emotion which might have been...

...and in fact was...

...welling up inside of her at his unannounced presence.

But it was this lack of announcement which she devoted her attention to now.

"Lord Phalomir, what a surprise it is to see you here," she opened with, her eyes only momentarily shifting to the side towards ShaRhylla before returning to the emerald pair of the Sith Lord. "You have inquires for the Revealer?" she asked then, her tone unreadable and almost nonchalant...

He arched a hopeful eyebrow.

“Speaking of which, is Jharmeen here on K’eel Doba as well?”

As the question left his lips, he flicked a glance to ShaRhylla.

She moved slightly to the side, motioning towards the Revealer. "I assume you came to ask questions?"

Again she looked momentarily ShaRhylla's way before returning her gaze to Phalomir, keenly interested in what he would do next.

“But do I not wish to interrupt your session, I can return later. I came to K’eel Doba hoping to find Jharmeen, to ask her… to see her. Perhaps you can help me understand what has happened? You and I were leading the others to rescue her spirit, but Lord Aelvedaar imprisoned me… I believe I understand why, to a certain extent, but the rest of what he told me makes little sense. Then the others left to find…”

Erik…

His face turned a little harder, as he looked upon the two ladies. His eyes moved from one to another.

“We have been through much, Shayla, and I trust you explicitly. For the sake of friendship, Shayla, please, tell me what is really happening.”

She fell silent a moment, then shifted the topic of conversation. "Our session with the Revealer is complete. But I wonder..."

“Puzzling things,” he said. “That he placed the group out of danger on Tattooine, and you stole away on your own to find Jharmeen’s body, possibly stealing a ship to do it. That while in the Darker Realms, when you did find Jharmeen, that darkness that had infected the Master could have invaded Jharmeen. That Erik is missing. That Jharmeen paid a visit to Aelvedaar before I was freed, and seemed disinterested in my well being, adversarial, in fact, even though the Master healed both you and her from horrible wounds suffered in some attack.”

He inhaled deeply.

“So tell me, please, Shayla. How does Jharmeen feel about me? And to a greater extent, what are her plans for the future of the Sith? And what is happening with you?”

Once the emotion kicked in, it was difficult to stop. Again he looked back and forth to Shayla and ShaRhylla as he spoke.

“You, standing here with the one who tried to take Jharmeen from both of us, and ran off with the one who tried to kill you? I have him, I stranded him on the moon and bound him to me, he can’t hurt you again.”

He raised his voice involuntarily, almost shouting now.

“So tell me, please, what is going on with you three?”

Ah, a question! came the voice of the Revealer. The room darkened slightly, as the voice of Shayla came floating from within the device.

Instead of a Triad built on a Clanship of three Lords, your Mother sees that there should be instead three ladies to rule and guide the Sith; ladies who are strong in Power...
...and who will not bend easily when it comes to matters of the Heart.

Phalomir stood, dumbfounded, as the room brightened once more.

"Show us the last image you revealed at my request," she ordered, stressing the final pronoun that the Revealer would have nothing confounding to deal with.

Once more the device went to work, this time again showing the image of the richly appointed Phalomir gloating over the Sith while Jharmeen, her arms full of baby, fell backward from the crenellation, her features exuding a sense of heart-wrenching hopelessness.

"So you see," ShaRhylla sneered as she took a half step toward Phalomir.

"You are not trustworthy at all; nor are you worthy of the sigils upon your flesh! However did you manage to obtain them; in league with a Sorcerer and his magicks, are you?"

“I have seen this images before,” he said to the air in front of him. “When I took the Dark Lordship from Lord Rein, he wanted to give me something, a device. The Finger of R’lous… but I had this vision, this same vision… and I refused to own it.”

He looked to ShaRhylla, his eyes wide.

“It was a choice, between power and love. By taking the power it offered, by using it to obtain the power over the Sith, I would give up what was really the most important thing to me. Don’t you see? It is her, and what we would make together, that is what I wanted above all else.”

He looked to Shayla.

Stating nothing futher, Shayla stepped back, and the spheres once more moved, replaying the images of the discussions the Master was having with Rykounagin...

...of the restored tower, the doppleganger of Roan...

...and of the ship of yorik coral and the chrome-eyed creature who was at its command driving yet through hyperspace."

Phalomir turned and paced.

“The Vong, they were attacking the galaxy in my time. It is why I was made the unified ruler of the Sith, the ruling Triad had been killed and the clans were in chaos. At least, that is what I recall. In my head, it’s been hard to say what is real and what is not. But it is so vivid, thse memories, even when they killed me-- it is difficult to explain, I don’t even know how.”

He paused and turned to face both of the women.

“But I have never been, now will I ever be, in league with the Master, or with the Vong, or Roan, or anyone else who threatens the existence of our people! I thought he had changed, I thought the darkness was controlling him. The very same darkness they said was within you, Shayla. You must beware your own feelings, for they may not be your own.”

He stepped closer, softly.

...then locking eyes with the emerald ones of Phalomir. "Too many questions remain, ones which can only be answered with the passage of time."

She trailed staring at Phalomir, then continued. "What is it that has brought you here to K'eel Doba to begin with...

...and why are you so suprised regarding the Master's discussions with Rykounagin, considering you and Lord Aelvedaar should both know he is there with the fool already? It was you, after all, who claimed to have control over the young assasin to begin with."

“I knew the Master was going to try to obtain information from Rykounagin, to see if he knew where you, Jharmeen, and ShaRhylla might be. If he is speaking of other things, then I do not know what it could be. But if what you have shown me here is correct, then the Master could be far more dangerous now than he was in the Darker Realms.”

Phalomir shook his head.

“What tie could he have with the Vong? All of his actions have shown that he is intent on stopping them, what does this mean?”

He puzzled for a brief second, then turned his attention back to Shayla.

“Yes, questions will be answered in their time. As for why I am here, it is as I said. I need to see Jharmeen, to see for myself what has become of her. Don’t you understand? I love her. And until very recently I had no doubt she loved me. Shayla, you know this, why is this a mystery?”

Phalomir cocked his head, then stepped closer. He drew in a breath and spoke softly.

"Take a care," she hissed, whispering.

"He would use love, just as you have already pointed out to me.

"Remember?"

"Why do you ask me something you have not attempted to determine for yourself, if you are in fact that concerned about him?"

She quieted a moment at that, snorting a bit in irritation. "And why do you ask me of him when there is so much more at stake here?"

...as will he. In the end, however, these small mundane things matter not."

She quieted. "There is in the end only the Greater Good which must be served. He therefore matters not to me; not any longer. There are far greater things...

... far greater things."

She paused once more, glancing over to ShaRhylla. "I tire of these questions, and as the Second to the Chosen Daughter and as her very own Daughter, neither one of us should have to contend with them any longer than we desire. Let us depart.

Now."

“Very well,” he said. “It shall be a long road to achieve what it is you seek, a triad not ruled by matters of the heart. It will not be easy, as the heart rules with an iron fist. I wish you luck, my friends.”

His eyes narrowed slighty.

“And I thank you for allowing me use of the Revealer. I need to find a suitable place for the new Temple of the Armorers, for I intend to revive the Clan and bring it back to its place within the triad.”

He bowed his head in honor of the ladies.

"Your quest is a futile one, Lord," she sneered, taking a step now toward Phalomir.

"For we have no longer any use for so archaic a clan as yours. The powers we hold shall provide us with anything we need; we will soon lift up our people from the need for any mere machines or devices."

She crossed her arms, blinding insight suddenly striking, telling her with solid assurety exactly why the New Triad would be composed of three ladies, and who those ladies were.

She knew. In her heart, she knew.

Phalomir’s face softened slightly.

"Ask what questions you desire to ask to the Revealer...

...but be wary of holding to old ancient ways. For if it is learning from the past you speak of...

"Do you wish to assist me in locating a new location for the Temple?"

"Nonsense!" she spat, now striding forward to come to a halt directly in front of Phalomir.

"You seek to beguile us with soft words; I believe you not! By your very blood you are in league with this Darkness that seeks to destroy us all."

She paused, rose up on her tiptoes.

"Your words of love reveal only weakness, Lord; a weakness our enemies can only take advantage of. We are strong, strong enough and with power enough to defend the Sith against that which comes."

Settling flat on her feet again, she took a step back, sneered down her nose at him.

"You are not welcome on this world any longer; go back to the darkness and the treachery that speaks with so secretive and confounding a tongue, and tell it that it has failed. We shall not only rule the Sith, but shall guide them into a new future where the stagnant ways of old shall be no longer necessary.

...and of the boiling anger rising within her that she couldn't fully grasp. At least; not initially. But something in ShaRhylla's last words struck a nerve, suddenly making it all fall into place.

"Your words of love reveal only weakness, Lord; a weakness our enemies can only take advantage of..."

There it was, the source of that something Shayla Stargazer couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Wait," she whispered softly, extending a hand to place it on ShaRhylla's arm, the motion a soft and smooth one...

...and yet it still exists despite your choice. Beware the assumptions that you make...

...love can be twisted to become something so strong that it becomes the very evil you wish to avoid. Nothing in life is black and white, my friend."

She paused then, her eyes growing hard and distant. "You are so quick to judge, and so so heedless in your conclusions, my Lord. Think you so little of the one whom you claim to love already, and of me, her Adept and Chosen Sister, as well? Small minds do think in small terms, I suppose."

Once more she paused, nodding towards the Revealer. "Ask your questions, unless you fear you have something to hide from us. After all, there is much more to come that we should concern ourselves with aside from this pointless bickering and squabbling. The Yuuzhan Vong are returning...

...and perhaps sooner than you believe."

...one must wonder what decisions you are making on your own as well, considering you have yet to perform the research you stated you came here for."

Quieting at that, she simply regarded him coolly with her greeny-blue eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose it does not matter what you think, only the Dark Lady can say for herself. But I was hopeful.”

Phalomir turned towards the Revealer.

“I am need of research,” he began. “The Diamond of the Sith is broken, and the Armorers are without a temple. As Dark Lord of the Armorers, I intend to rebuild the Clan, and must find a suitable location for the temple. With both Korrisian and Korriban in the Elseness, is there another world within the influence of the Sith, one that would be suitable to colonize for the Armorers?”

The Revealer lit up, the dimmed, then lit again.

The influence of the Sith has changed since the rebirth. But there are planets still uninhabited that were once outposts. One such lies near the Diamond of the Sith, small and desert, yet inhabitable by those with determination.

The image within the Revealer darkened and again showed a star map, highlighting a small planet within the orbit of a sun near the red star of the Sith.

Phalomir’s eyes widened.

Pausing at that, Shayla glanced over to ShaRhylla, then continued. "Likewise I would appreciate that you consider that I am her Second, and I along with her Daughter would greatly appreciate that, while you remain here, you do so as the guest that you are. Were there a Dark Lord here, would you not do as much?"

He then folded his hands before and lowered his head slightly.

“And I do wish to remain in the Temple to await the Dark Lady. If it pleases you, I would care to continue to use the rooms I have been occupying for the past several weeks. I am sorry if I have taken liberties, I thought my station with the Dark Lady to be higher than it obviously is....”

Phalomir paused, not letting his thoughts go where they wanted to go.

“And I thank you for the hospitality, Shayla.”

Phalomir cocked his head and looked back up.

“Certainly,” he said. “If you don’t mind the company. I think I have obtained the information I need, and will eagerly await the Dark Lady’s return. During my stay, with your permission, I would like to revisit some locations in the city I have missed since my last visits here.”

Phalomir held out his hands.

And that was something she had never liked, nor would she ever come close to entertaining.

Snorting in disgust, her eyes beginning to smolder even more, she stepped up to Phalomir and thrust her face up into his nose.

"I said you were not welcome on this planet!" she seethed. Pausing for breath she continued, summoning what little she knew from Shayla's earlier words to her and summarily deducing the remainder.

"You have found your pitiful information; go off to your dreary desert and create your Temple to the Ghosts. For we shall no longer be in need of the Armorers; indeed, not even of the Sorcerers! All the Sith need now is the strength of the warriors, who shall now be led not as a silly clan but as an entire people. There shall be no factions any longer, only the Sith!"

Widening her stance now, she pointed to the door.

"The etiquette and soft words you try to speak do not fool me, nor will they sway me. Mother's Second has already suffered enough from you; begone now!"

“With all due respect to your possible future position,” he said, “the current ruling body of the Sith is still the Triumvirate made up of myself, your mother, and Lord Aelvedaar. I will respect the wishes of the Dark Lady, for in the dealings of her Clan her commands carry more weight than either mine or Aelvedaar’s. Shayla, as second, holds the next highest position within this Clan. But when it comes to matters of state for the Sith as a whole, the Triumvirate takes precedance. I understand your wishes, Lady ShaRhylla, but I cannot simply leave because you do not like me. When your mother has explained her plans for a new ruling body, and if we agree, then I will bow to you. But this change you wish will not happen just because you said it is has happened, and until then I ask for the respect due to a Dark Lord of the Sith.”

Phalomir looked back to Shayla.

“I am sorry, I do not wish a confrontation. I only wish to hold court with the Dark Lady and Lord Aelvedaar. If you wish me to leave, Shayla, then I shall do so.”

"And I would also ask you to consider this," she continued, pausing a moment to glance at the smouldering ShaRhylla before continuing. "I am Graysith's Second by her own choice, just as Aeylmaar is Lord Aelvedaar's son by choice. ShaRhylla, however, is Graysith's flesh and blood. That in itself carries a great deal of weight, more so that it appears you are willing to give to her."

Pausing once more at that, Shayla was already certain she had had quite enough of this...

...as was she of other things as well. "You know, strange I find it you would place so little weight on the vision shown by this device," here she paused, indicating the Revealer, "Yet you would place so much on words regarding a female triad. As you so eloquently pointed out, just because it is a possible future, that does not make it so."

She paused for emphasis. "Yet."

Another moment of silence slipped past, one edged with ice. "You speak of a meeting of the Triad, including Lord Aelvedaar." She glanced over to ShaRhylla, sending her a meaningful look before returning her gaze to Phalomir. "If your wish is to ask that the Dark Lady meet with you and the Sorceror Lord, I will give her this message; after all, there is no need of you staying to corner her here, that is unless you do not trust her to carry through on your request..."

Shayla paused, reality suddenly slamming into her. "...or unless the Sorceror Lord is already here with you."

“Lord Aelvedaar arrived with me,” he said. “But he was called away to aid with an emergency. I expect him to return, assuming it would not take more than half a day. He should be fully capable of dealing with matters alone, but he was to call upon me if my assistance was needed. If you please, I would like to leave messages for both Lord Aelvedaar and Lady Jh- Graysith. I will explore the planet we saw in the Revealer, and hope he and she will contact me when they are ready.”

Phalomir nodded to both women and began walking for the door.

Trembling with barely contained rage, she clenched her fists even tighter.

"We shall escort you to your ship... Lord!" she spat in a low snarl, cutting her eyes to Shayla's and nodding her head but once. For as much as she was growing to loathe being in any sort of proximity to this towering and what she deemed to be very dangerous Sith, she loathed even more to allow him out of their sight.

At least not while he was their supposed guest in Phrinnchatka.

Shayla paused a moment, arching an eyebrow, her greeny-blues staring stormily into Phalomir's face...

...and noticing something. "Oh, dear," Shayla breathed, half in sarcasm, and half in something else entirely molten and ice. She cast a sidelong glance ShaRhylla's way. "You've spoken so much of the Triumvarate to us,and have damned our idea of uniting the Sith as one...

...and yet you bear the marks of all three Clans." Shayla paused, crossing her arms. "Explain that, my Lord."

“I thought I had stated my intentions,” he said. “I wish to bring the Triumvirate together for a meeting of state to discuss the next steps in preparing for the Vong. That, and I wanted to see Jharmeen on a personal level, considering the last time I saw her she was dying in my arms. I do not see a reason for your suspicions. Would it not be logical that Lord Aelvedaar arrive with me, since we were together? Your plans were not even known to me until just now, and although it will be a matter of discussion, the Vong invasion is still the primary reason for the conference.”

Phalomir touched his hand to his face, his eyes tired.

“As for my face,” he continued. “I thought you knew, I am sorry. I was born into the line of the Sorcorers, son to the Dark Lord at the time. I took the position as a young man, when my father vanished. I married into the house of Warriors, and received this one. Then when I arrived here, in this time, I took this one from Lord Rean. Only one is active.”

He brought his hand back down and exhaled.

"I didn't think that's how it was supposed to work!" she muttered under her breath, but not in so low a voice that she couldn't be overheard by others.

"My father was Dark Lord of the Warriors only, born into that house. He who I have been told was my uncle Rean was Dark Lord of the Armorers, likewise born into that house.

"Lord Aelvedaar is likewise, born into the House of Sorcerers," she ended quickly, not seeming to wish to dwell on those words much.

"How odd to have all of the Houses wrapped up in one nice little package, and then you stand here claiming to wish to bring the Triumvirate together to talk!

"Well, about what?"

A sudden inspiration struck, perhaps ignited by a brief shade whispering up from her experiences in the Darker Realms.

"Planning on taking over yourself, by conveniently doing away with the others? Did Lord Aelvedaar really go somewhere, or are you just saying that?"

“I would, ShaRhylla, and have come close to it. Shayla would do the same, of this I am certain. What about you, milady? Perhaps you could see my concern, for when last I saw you, you were plotting the overthrow of your mother. You faked her death, then plotted with your would-be husband to arrange it for real. And what was your reaction when she DID die?”

He stared directly into ShaRhylla’s eyes, cool.

“And now you are suddenly the loving daughter. I hope it is sincere, I truly do. She must have great faith in you, to forgive what you have done. I am not so forgiving, and will remain watchful of all who Roan has so easily influence from beyond the grave.”

Phalomir’s eyes darted to Shayla.

"That is enough indeed," Shayla spoke up evenly, coolly, the look in her eyes totally unreadable. "I think it would benefit us all if you go about your business and leave this place," she then indicated pointedly to Phalomir. "For if it is truly the Greater Good you are concerned with," Shayla continued, looking over towards ShaRhylla a moment before returning her gaze to the Dark Lord, "I believe you would be wise in departing and doing those things you feel will accomplish it."

Pausing then, Shayla let the moment hang in silence before saying anything further. "Do not be so quick to assume that your personal view of how the Greater Good should be served is the only one, and the correct one, however. And do not assume you are the only one who has the Greater Good in mind." She paused, an old Jedi adage floating to her mind. "Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view...

...and nothing is pure black and white."

Another moment of pure silence slipped past, and then Shayla motioned for the door. "Come."

Taking the lead then, Shayla lead the party out of the Great Library altogether, and then towards the Sith transport. But a final thought came to her mind, and she paused suddenly, turning around to cast a curious gaze directly into Phalomir's emerald eyes.

"What is it you wish to retrieve from the Temple? I do not feel it is necessary that you return there."

“The rooms I occupied contain only clothing and a few trinkets,” he said. “If you need the space, perhaps you could have them bundled for retrieval at a later date.”

He tried to read Shayla, searching for some reason to leave his things untouched. He could only hope for the best, and not assume that they would simply be burned.

She approached Phalomir, shoved herself unheeding into his personal space, and let her eyes lock boldly onto his.

"And you think yourselves above such scrutiny!" she sneered, trembling as with an instinctive jerk she grabbed her one coiled hand with the other, closing it into a fist and wrapping it up inside her other palm.

"Watch away, Pretender; you are not the only one who will be doing thus!"

Pausing with a great and shuddering breath, she stepped back, now cocking her head a bit to one side to study him a little more closely.

"I find it passing strange that you come here as thus, yammering about the precious Clan of the Ghosts as you do, claiming now to be their Dark Lord. Both Mother and Father have told me they exist no longer; neither one has mentioned you in that regard.

"And as for my dear ex-husband with whom you yourself are in league..."

She let her words trail off a little, one hand waving toward the Revealer while her jaw worked silently in the attempt to find exactly the right words to say.

"He is another one worthy of the closest and most careful scrutiny. You would do well to beware him and not us, for while what we do we do for the Sith--"

Another pause, another quick glance to Shayla, a question in her eerie bi-color eyes as if asking if she was upon the correct course.

"--what he does is only for himself."

She took a step back, her gaze still pinning Phalomir's.

"But then, what I say is just mere words as well, isn't it, my Lord?"

At the very thought of Rykounagin her rage flowered into even more brilliant life, filling every inch of her with burning hatred and a great yearning for revenge. Letting her arms drop by her sides, she turned a touch sideways, putting herself instinctively into a fighting stance as she now spoke up once again.

This time, however, it was not so much toward Phalomir as to her Mother's Second.

"Considering this latter fact, I'm not certain if indeed we should allow him exit from Phrinnchatka at all," she mused, changing her mind in an instant as this new thought sunk into her.

"In fact, I know we should not even consider any of the love he purports to have for Mother as being real at all, but mere words to try to catch us off-guard.

"Ryk-- that is, the assassin was trying to kill her, you know, and since he is now with him--"

She cut off her words in mid-sentence, choosing now to let the implications carried upon their backs hang heavily in the air.

“I bound the assassin to me to prevent him from doing more harm!” he shouted. “Why else would he have been in a ship bound for this planet if he was not coming to kill her? He was yours, I couldn’t just kill him! What would you have me do?! I can’t lose her again…”

Phalomir stopped, realizing now that it was indeed too late. His heart skipped, then slowed as he felt the world come closing in around him. But with that sinking feeling came another realization. He shook his head in small motions.

Straightening, she lifted her chin.

"I did not send him to kill Mother," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"He was the one to always speak of such things, not I."

Now she shifted a bit uncomfortably as images of her truncated attempt to place herself as Dark Lady flew through her head. For a brief moment she wavered, then stilled.

She had, after all, not murdered her. She had merely machined her apparent death to deceive others into thinking the Dark Lady had died.

And then, unexpectedly, she had. And how well she remembered Rykounagin's glee when he learned of this--

She jerked her reveries to a halt, letting her gaze sharpen and focus upon Phalomir again.

"And so it would appear that this is why you stopped the assassin from returning here," she said, her voice as dark as her eyes.

"Nevermind that it might be to simply stop him long enough that you might fill his head with sneakier ways than what he knows, that he might get away with actually destroying Mother!"

She sputtered to a halt, well aware of Rykounagin's propensity toward simple action, his heavy reliance on the magicks the repository had undoubtedly taught him, and the fact that he hadn't a real lick of subterfuge within him.

That cold and grim asset would have to be taught to him by someone else...

"I do not--" she began, wishing with every fiber of her being to simply kill off the assassin and be done with him, when once more that strange whisper of actual thought began to niggle within her.

How sweet. To have him actually bound to her, to be able to let him out against those who might oppose them, and seek to harm the Dark Lady...

She fell silent a moment. "He would risk tangling with he who so clearly has aligned himself with the Darker Realms and the Vong in a plot to manipulate the entire galaxy?"

Shayla now folded her arms, her greeny-blues growing stormy once more. "Don't believe him, ShaRhylla. For as much as I would love to burn every ounce of the skin from Rykounagin's flesh, I will not entertain this offer at the risk of the Greater Good of the Sith. And how dare you use the sugggestion of Rykounagin's abandonment to sway us to listen to your words!" she added, glaring at Phalomir.

Now Shayla was seething. "I do not trust this offer you give us. And even if I did...

...I am not so quick as to fall for it just to satisfy my own desire for revenge."

Here she looked to ShaRhylla, nodding once in response to something the younger woman had spoken only a few moments before. "Not at the risk of the Sith."

"Take a care; you do not know the ways of the Sith!" she hissed back, jerking her shoulder out from beneath Shayla's touch.

For a moment she simply regarded the young woman, her eyes strangely frosty yet simultaneously molten with anger; then lifting her chin a bit she continued in explanation.

"He is an assassin; he is bound to do the bidding of whatever Sith it is who holds him! He cannot attempt anything on his own, so long as he is bound to one of Royal Blood; Shayla, this will stop him cold, and remove his threat from us!"

With that she turned back to Lord Phalomir, slitting her eyes once again.

"Proceed," she said tersely, and fell silent.

Inspiration struck.

"Shayla!" she cried, knowing of her healing abilities. She pointed to the silent Phalomir even as she ran back to the Revealer.

"Who just attacked Lord Phalomir?" she panted, fidgeting that the device would hurry, for she suddenly felt extremely devoid of time.

The Revealer obliged, going into its whirling dance before the atmosphere in the Library darkened to reveal an image:

The smiling Master, an apparently fully healed Rykounagin lurking in the shadows behind him...

ShaRhylla hastened to the fallen lord as the imagery faded, dropping to her knees and placing a hand atop his shoulder. She yanked it away, shaking it against the roasting heat.

"There is another..." she said quietly enough, although rage once again began to flame within her eyes.

"Now we must be holden to this one, that Rykounagin remain bound... if the words he speaks are indeed yet true."

She trailed, looking down to the smouldering Phalomir. "This does seem to place this one as truthful...

...or at least as a pawn. I was a fool to dismiss his offer without full knowledge of its impact."

Stating nothing further than that, Shayla reached to the Dark Lord, placing a hand on his shoulder despite the fact burning heat flared up her own arm as she did so. Closing her eyes then, Shayla stretched out upon the wings of her healing gifts, pulling from more than just merely the meager Force channels, but indeed to the very All itself.

The smouldering heat which inflicted Phalomir's body began to dissipate...

...it felt somehow deeper than that, as if they had been plucked wriggling and writhing from the fabric of life itself to be placed beneath some sort of a gigantic microscope.

She shivered, wrapped her arms about herself, her eyes still darting about when in yet another survey of the room they brought the Revealer once more into sight. But this time they stopped and rested there.

"Shayla," she began in a low whisper.

"How did he know where we are? How did he know not to just come here to Phrinnchatka, but to the Great Library in particular?"

Opening her eyes, momentarily diverting her attention from her patient, her greeny-blues riveted to the Revealer.

The Revealer that knew of the past, the present...

...and apparently, Visions of the future as well. And in the balance lay Phalomir, who had so conveniently arrived here while they asked questions to the Revealer...

Shayla shot to her feet, suddenly very wary. "We need to leave this place!" she then said suddenly, a bit desperately. "And we need to take him--" here she paused, pointing at the healing but still motionless Phalomir, "--with us. For if there is not one way we are being watched," she observed, her eyes barely shifting towards the Revealer, "Then there is another."

Now she nodded slightly to Phalomir.

"Let us return to the Temple."

And with nothing further than that, Shayla stretched out to her Force talents once more, this time not to heal the Dark Lord but instead to move him from the floor where he lay. Slowly and smoothly his body lifted from the floor, to the air...

...and Shayla began to move away from the Great Library altogether, ShaRhylla no doubt on her heels. And Shayla did not inted to stop moving until they were back to safer, quieter places...

ShaRhylla flung out an imperious hand, fighting with herself. For while on one hand she wanted nothing so much as to flee from what we beginning to feel like a place most dangerous in which to linger, another thought now struck her, holding her.

She turned from the Revealer to Shayla, who was moving toward the door.

"Shayla, either he knew we were here by some means unknown to me...

"...or he simply wished to come here himself. And the only reason I can think of is--"

She whirled and marched back to the Revealer. Stopping in front of it she scowled, knowing there was no means of halting its use by anyone other than dismantlement. And that was something she did not wish to do, at least not now when they needed it to assist them in keeping an eye out on their newfound enemies.

"Shayla, maybe he wanted to use this." She waved her hand.

"We cannot let him, it is too dangerous.

"He might find out where Mother is!"

"A Question!" the Revealer burst forth eagerly.

"Are the Master and Rykounagin planning to come here to use the Revealer?" she asked it, her eyes slitting.

The Revealer's answer was simple. Its spheres moved in a smooth pattern, and a Yes. splayed forth.

Shayla's eyes slittled further. "Why? Why do they need use of the Revealer? Is it to find the Dark Lady?" she then queried.

Once more the spheres began to glide, creating three-deminsional images, sounds included, of the conversation which had passed between the Master and Rykounagin of the need to go into the Darker Realms for artifacts, and of Rykounagin's request to be "preserved." At length this all merged into the need to find Thoran, the only one who could take the actions necessary to preserve Rykounagin's soul should he be killed.

Shayla slitted her eyes impossibly further, something else entirely gaining her attention than the search for Thoran. "What artifacts does the Master need from the Tower?"

As her words fell into silence, the Revealer's spheres once again did their dance...

...and a three-deminsional image of something familar to both young women was cast:

"He stole it from me!" she growled beneath her breath before marching over to where Phalomir remained floating to stop, staring down upon him with new fire flaming from her.

"Perhaps this is all a ruse, then!" she spat in a low whisper.

"Perhaps he was sent here first, to try to determine this while the other two remained safely back. He and Lord Aelvedaar are to distract us, while the others go off to capture the Finger of R'lous to use against us!"

Snarling, she fisted her small hand and thumped Lord Phalomir squarely on his chest, in the exact spot where the Master's energies had impacted him. Even unconscious, the Sith Lord groaned, feeling the blow even though not fully aware of what was causing the pain.

ShaRhylla turned to Shayla.

"Feed this one to the tuk'atas, whilst I wait for the coming of the other two! For surely they will come, and I will be more than ready for them-- no, wait!"

Snarling at her own near and more than likely fatal gaffe, she held up a hand.

"We still can't kill this one, now while Rykounagin lives. For he is the one to whom the assassin must answer; hmmm..."

She paused again, slitting her eyes as she regarded further the floating form, reaching into every corner of her mind for an answer to their apparent quandary. Then--

"I know."

Now she reached out to Phalomir, placing her hands on either side of his face. Once physically connected she let her consciousness meld into him, reaching into the corridors of his mind as she had one day so long ago with Terrin. She was about to let loose with her talents that he might go mad, when she stopped.

She had run flat into something the Lord had stated over and over and yet over again--

Her eyes wide, she backed out, shaking her head to remove the last vestiges of the mental link she had implemented between them.

"It is true," she said with a snarl.

"He truly does love Mother. I don't think he would do anything to harm her... and perhaps not us as well."

Shaking her head, she returned to the Revealer, stood before it with clenched hands, chin lifted and rage boiling in her eyes.

"I am stopped at every turn; if ONLY you could show me what to do!"

"A Question!" the Revealer interpreted, then seguing the air into a final image, one flaming of hair and violet-eyed, enclosed within a cloak of rune-encrypted smoke.

"Await me," the figure said smoothly, raised a hand...

...and the Revealer went cold, silent and dark--

--to suddenly flare back into life once again. To the utter startlement and amazement of the onlookers, a series of numerals began to dance about their heads:

3.141...

((OOC: Please go to Z-Prime in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, this date, to see what the heck this is all about, thank you...))

...but the numbers...???

Still in total suprise, Shayla shot a sidelong glance Rhylla's way...

...and then that portion of her that was the avid pilot who was able to calculate coordinates and destinations in her head, without a single aid rose a banner in recognition.

Shayla's look of surprise, much to the initial chargrin of her companion, shifted to one of dark amusement. "Pi..." she whispered under her breath, the look in her eyes darkening only further. "The number which we now see is a infinite one...

...and it will keep the Revealer occupied..."

She trailed a moment, dark humor spilling forth in her eyes once more, "...infinitely." Glancing back to the occasionally groaning Phalomir, Shayla then continued. "We should return to the Temple and take this one with us to heal."

"But now we no longer have the use of it either," she pouted, nevermind the tactical implications of that. She was simply a child without her pretty toy.

She heaved a sigh, turned toward the door.

"Yes, let's..." she said as she ushered the others out. Pausing a moment to stare back at the occupied device, her eyes fell upon something else, sending a faint smile to now dance upon her own lips.

A sign.

Closed Until Further Notice.

Sighing again, she picked it up, and in departing the Library placed it on the door as she closed it behind her. Then she hastened to keep up with Shayla, who was making fast progress toward the Temple, the gawks and stares of occasional bystanders notwithstanding.

"He's fallen ill," ShaRhylla explained hurriedly as she finally caught up with Shayla. Then she lowered her voice.

She looked back towards the floating Phalomir. At the horizon, the Great Temple of the Warriors was coming in to view. "What say you to the idea of placing him in the care of the Healers? Certainly we want this one very hale and whole...

...and he will most certainly be well watched there. As to what we should do while we wait for your Mother..."

She, a Teacher?

Frowning a moment, she got herself under control, her step firming and now even increasing in pace. Moments later they had come upon the Grand Sairway leading up the side of the stepped Temple of the Warriors; placing a foot atop the first step she began the long climb upward.

"Yes, let us leave this Lord in the care of the Royal Healers," she said with a definite nod of her head.

"For they are the most skilled of all the Healers, and as they are likewise the ones charged with keeping the Royal Family healthy, they themselves have a strong squadron of Warriors to guard them.

"Lord Phalomir shall be safe there."

She paused for awhile then, concentrating all her strength toward the formidable climb to the apex of the front-Temple, where the doorway to the courtyard and then temple proper awaited. Reaching the top step, she hurried along, an uncomfortable ripple of unease coursing through her as he headed toward the smooth stone facade ahead, the ornate engraven stone balustrade which lined the courtyard speaking a whisper of dark possibilities.

This was where it had happened, or would happen... or could she thought to herself, remembering with intricate detail the image shown to her by the Revealer.

It was right here, and he was next to her...

She slowed then, casting a look over her shoulder toward Shayla and her yet floating charge, but it wasn't to the young woman that her penetrating gaze was directed. She waffled a moment--

"We must trust him," she finally murmured, not realizing that in speaking to herself she had spoken aloud. She turned away and hastened onward, coming to the ornate door set deeply into the facade and opening it to reveal the colonnaded and echoing Grand Foyer. Through this she went, followed by Shayla, passing then through the shadowy pillars until they came to another wall, one in which was set a pair of ornatedly carved and jewel-encrusted doors.

She opened these, turned sideways, and bid Shayla enter into the Temple of the Warriors with Phalomir. She spoke no further word, not to her or to any of the obviously surprised Sith they met along the way until at last she arrived at their destination: the Royal Healing Chambers.

Leading the pair inside, she summoned the nearest Healer, paying no attention to anyone else who might be in that chamber.

"See to his well-being and guard him against any other except myself, the Second, or Mother herself!" she bid, once again the haughty young Heiress Apparent. Not even waiting for a reply she turned on her heel, and led Shayla back and away, once more traversing long corridors that twisted and turned as if a maze, finally coming to the Grand Dining Hall.

There she hastened to the back, where a little row of booths provided them with a modicum of privacy. A wave and sharp bark of a command to a hurriedly hastening servant assured them that food and drink would soon arrive; plopping herself down into the booth and propping her elbows on the table, she cupped her chin in her hands.

"Well," she began.

"What do you wish to know?"

...there still seemed to be much she did not know of. And even though they would mostly likely be breaking many of those ways in time...

...she still needed to know of those ways now. For many of those ways would still remain as well. And it was thus that something she had failed to be aware of back in the Great Library came to her attention.

"What do you know of the Assasins, especially in regards to their connection and uses amongst the Royalty of the Sith?" Shayla queried. "In my studies with your Mother, she never mentioned them...

Her eyes cut to the servant, pinned her.

"Something stronger!" she hissed, staring up at the quaking girl from beneath her brows who promptly vanished, only to rematerialize moments later with a carafe of something green.

Sharhylla grunted, snatched the carafe, and waved the servant away. Pouring herself a drink of the Sith brandy and then one for Shayla, she slammed the silver container down, picked up her goblet, and tossed a warming draught of it down her young throat.

It sent her into immediate fits of coughing. Her hand shot out, waving the rising Shayla back as after a bit of time she got herself under control once again.

"The Assassin's Guild," she breathed, sending brandy fumes shooting in Shayla's direction.

"From what I have learned, which indeed is not much, they used to have a large group. But from what Rykounagin has told me, there is only himself and his brother left to carry on the tradition. I don't know what has happened to his brother; perhaps he mentioned that he killed him, but of this I am not certain."

She took a second drink, managing by great effort to swallow this one without incident.

"I do know that they are bound to the Lords of the clans; well, a Lord may take it upon himself to bind an assassin to himself. They are versed in some of the Sith magicks, and have been used for ages in the role of political assassinations, I think."

Plopping her elbow on the table again, she laid her cheek against a fist.

"I don't know how they were trained or who did this, but he told me they learned such things in the asteroid where he took me, which was a secret base or something along those lines. There was this thing, a repository he called it, which contained all the knowledge learned by the cult over time."

She stopped then, as a question to something she herself had said now rose up to taunt her. Then she darkened, slammed down another drink.

"It would appear that our friend has been out to destroy the Sith for far longer than we think, for he has been out to kill Mother for quite some time.

She trailed, her eyes defocusing, "But then again, maybe it does. We should look in to this."

Quieting a moment at that, Shayla finally took up the goblet in front of her, taking a dainty and small swallow of the portent drink it contained.

Few she knew who could take it down in one gulp. But then, there was one.

A dark little smile momentarily rimmed the edges of Shayla's goblet before she lowered it from her lips. "Anything you can tell me of the current ruling body of the Sith is of my interest; I know of the Triumvarate and of the clans, but little else aside from that," Shayla admitted. Then she paused, recalling Graysith's own request of her when she sent her and ShaRhylla away.

"Is there anything you wish to know from me? Your mother did request that I fill you in, and I intend to do just that...

...but I'm not sure I'm quite certain where to begin."

"I do not even know what Mother referred to, much less ask questions regarding it," she finally offered before emptying her goblet. Then reaching to pour a refresher she took hold of the carafe, and was in the act of lifting it from the table when she paused.

"You know, it only makes logical sense that the Sorcerers are the clan to start up the Assassin's cult," she offered in a nonchalant manner, lifting a finger to her mouth to tap a pearly claw against her teeth.

"Since they are skilled in the magicks of the Sith and all..."

Darting a dark look Shayla's way, she finished refilling her glass, and once more took a great draught of it.

She paused, taking another sip from her brandy goblet, her eyes darkening further as she furrowed her brow. "We do not even know from where and when Rykounagin came into play here; perhaps Dark Lord Aelvedaar was not aware the Assasins yet had a living seed. Rykounagin did come into the picture quite out of the blue; was he brought forward with the Sith...

At length Phalomir began to stir beneath the administrations he was receiving. Nodding with satisfaction, the Healer raised a clawed hand to a subordinent, bidding he fetch something to cover the Lord's body with. The Healing Adept bowed and fled, soon returning with a short white robe spun of the purest of spider's silk. Nodding, the Healer watched as the Adept covered Phalomir in this new garb, then retreated from the bedside.

...her smile quickly turning into a frown then. "That is if the Master doesn't send him into the Tower to get the Finger without his desired precautions and he gets killed first," she observed, reaching up to twist her fingers through a ringlet of her growing hair.

"If we're lucky he'll go to the Darker Realms and not ever come back; you know, we could meet them there and make certain this happens--"

...a sly smile slowly coming to her face. "Or we could just wait and let them do the dirty work in regards to obtaining the Finger of R'lous. After all, the Master has to know he cannot use Rykounagin to attack any of us, not while the assasin is bound to Phalomir. And he also has to know he will be unable to attack us so long as Rykounagin is bound, either..."

Shayla trailed, her eyes slitting. "We should request that Lord Phalomir call him back here," she said thoughtfully. "Otherwise the Master will certainly kill the Assasin himself...

"Th-then we must make certain that nothing happens to Lord Phalomir, too," she reasoned, hiccuping slightly.

"Since he's the one to control Rykounagin; maybe we'd better go sit with him until he awakens, or until Mother returns."

She paused at that, her frown deepening. Plopping a steadying elbow on the table and placing her face against her fist, stared off into middle space.

She trailed for a moment, her eyes defocusing a bit before they snapped alert once more. "As for looking in on Lord Phalomir...

...I think that is a good idea. After all, the best way to make certain he remains here hale and whole is to keep a watchful eye on him ourselves."

Nodding once with this thought, Shayla got to her feet, then helping a somewhat unsteady ShaRhylla to her feet as well. "How interesting it would be if we were to make it to the Dark Lord's side before he awakes, just to see his reaction to his current circumstances..."

The walls and opulent accoutrements of the Grand Receiving Chamber brightened as something like a tiny sun suddenly appeared in the middle of it. This sun thinned, lengthened, rapidly transforming into something both eerie and extremely difficult to look upon: a Portal, opened in the very fabric of space and time.

She stepped out from that shining rift, tucking the repository back into the folds of her cloak as she did so. Then she made a determined bee-line to a bell-pull hanging off to one side, gave it a good, strong yank.

Moments later a Sith warrior of the upper echelons appeared and bowed before her. She spoke with him, swiftly, succinctly, but in great detail. The warrior's eyes widened a touch, but he trusted the Dark Lady.

Bowing to her, he went off to do her bidding, the last of which was to shut the door into the Receiving Room quietly, and to remain silent to all others concerning her return.

At least for the moment...

Graysith allowed a little smile to coil about her lips. Humming a little tune, her eyes oiling black, she mounted the dias leading up to the twin thrones at its apex.

Scorning the lesser, she took a seat in that of the Dark Lord of the Warriors.

And there she simply... waited.

And the Dark Lord they had come to watch slumbered peacefully, not a hint of injury upon his person.

Something prompted Shayla to take a step further, then another step, then another step, until at length she was standing directly beside the Sith. Without really thinking, Shayla moved a hand to lay it upon the Dark Lord's forehead...

...and moved no further. Slitting her eyes then, she watched Lord Phalomir slumber, a dark thought oiling from underneath her calm surface.

"One Son to rule them all, and in the Darkness bind them," she whispered, not knowing where the words were truly coming from. With a snort, she cast her greeny-blue gaze on ShaRhylla then. "His Love makes him nothing more than a Pawn in the Master's Game, you know."

Shayla fell silent then, her eyes defocusing, an oil rising within as they did so.

And what of you, Shayla Stargazer Petrolu Kartan? What of yours?

Stepping back then, Shayla turned in one graceful motion to ShaRhylla, smiling now something dark and altogether unpleasant. "I'm afraid there are more lose ends than merely this one," she observed, nodding back towards Phalomir. "He is not the only one who would do anything for his Love despite the Greater Good of the Sith."

Her lip curled and she turned to stare down at Phalomir. Then--

"Oh look," she commented, hiccupping again.

"He's starting to wake up."

Reaching out a slender finger, she poked Phalomir in his shoulder one time, and then again.

He heard voices, female. One voice in particular carried to him, soft and sweet as the morning wind, and as familiar as the day. He reached a hand to touch the finger pressing into him and opened one bleary eye. Long red waves of hair blurred into view, bringing a sudden quiet joy to Phalomir as the rest of his body struggled to wake.

"This is... Sorben Tarnus, approaching your capital city at the bequest of the Dark Lady," I opened, hoping this would be accepted yet knowing deep in my gut that it would. Pursing my lips, I then continued, now compensating for a rising wind which was buffeting me about.

It matched my mood exactly.

"Requesting approach vector and landing coordinates..."

My words were truncated as my receiver began to crackle.

"Tarnus, this is Ch'arlingua. We are expecting your arrival; please follow this heading--"

A string of numerals scrolled across my screens only to disappear, hungrily gulped down by my navigational computer.

"You will find yourself well met.

"Welcome to K'eel Doba. Ch'arlingua, out."

The voice disappeared and my ship bucked, but this time it was due to a directional change rather than the wind. More scenery flashed beneath my belly, and then I saw it. There in the distance.

So long; it's been so long...

Smoothly, I guided my ship down to the tarmac, coming to a gentle touch-down in the spaceport of Ch'arlingua. The ship had barely begun its cooling sequence when I was out of it, striding down the gangway, hands on my holstered blasters.

Imposing-looking Sith were waiting for me, their weapons held at parade rest. As I approached they snapped to attention and bowed; then one stepped forward.

"You will please come with us," he said, motioning to the others who fell into an honor guard around me.

The halfling yanked her hand away, taking a step backwards as she began wiping it upon her clothing; clothing, she realized with a start, which was yet the formal attire she had dressed herself in before Rykounagin had taken her to the assassin cult's secret base.

She stood swaying a moment, looking down at herself; then cut her gaze back to the half-asleep Lord.

"He thinks himself a Dark Lord?" she sputtered, wiping the back of her hand once again against her dress, vowing for this reason and for the fact that she had donned it for the sake of her ex-husband that she would never, ever wear it again.

His chest still showing the myriad of scars he received during his torture in the Darker Realms, his lean muscles now held a new burn mark.

"We need the fool, Rykounagin, called back here to you now."

"You were about to pass the bondage of him from you to me, when the old Sith who is with him attacked you."

She paused a moment, trying to focus the two Sith Lords into one.

"It seems he was trying to kill you, and save us the trouble."

“You really do, in many ways, remind me of your mother.”

“Do you think that is wise?” he asked Shayla. “Considering how I feel, I will guess it was Sith magick tainted with the All. I felt that once before, when I was attacked by the Finger of R’lous. Which means that Rykounagin is with the Master, either by choice or by force. If Rykounagin tries to come here, the Master will know.”

He looked back to ShaRylla, traces of his smile still there.

"How would I know; I am not Rykounagin's keeper!" she snarled, then turned away to pace about the Healing Chamber, just to see who else was there.

“I find my modesty has long since taken its leave,” he said. “Perhaps the natives of the seventh moon of Hydrae had it right by wearing nothing at all. To them, clothing hides the true nature of a person.”

Phalomir turned again to Shayla.

...only to find what she had originally thought as pure logic grinding to a screeching halt. Her mouth hung slightly open for a moment; she had to really think about it to close it and give herself over to thought.

What had been the reason for bringing Rykounagin here now? To take him from the Master? To torture him? To make him their own slave?

Shayla frowned a bit. Well, he was already unable to cause harm to anyone here so long as he was bound to Phalomir. But...

"He wants what is mine!" she growled, spitting fire.

...and you know how the Tower was destroyed to begin with...

...so why do you ask questions to which you should already know the answer anyway?"

She trailed, crossing her arms...

...and suddenly deciding something as she then turned to Rhylla. "You know, if the Assasin is bound to him," she then stated, pointing towards Phalomir, "And he is going to be placed in the Darker Realms by the Master anyway...

"I'm ready!" she said darkly, coming back up to the other two. There she paused, looking back and forth between them but not really taking either of them in.

"I've been there, it knows me, it would be easy..."

Still staring off into middle space, smiling at black memories only she could see, she trailed off into silence, smiling.

Phalomir scratched his head.

“It does not make much sense to me, though. If the Master is in league with this darkness, as you say, then why does he need to steal the Finger?”

He shrugged and sighed.

Shayla then turned a bit to look sideways at ShaRhylla. "And we should await your mother, as instructed, before doing anything further...

"No!" she corrected, fisting her hands.

"It was not originally taken from him by Mother; originally it was stolen from me, by him!

"I found it, in the mountains, in a cave; it had called to me, because I had lived there.

"I-- I thought it was-- was Him."

A bit of logic wormed its way up throughh the layers of Sith brandy she had consumed, warning her to shut her mouth before she disclosed anything else she might not wish those present to know. Wrinkling her nose with distaste at herself, she then did just that.

Her silence was expected, so Phalomir continued.

“I know it is difficult for you to believe me, let alone trust me, but I truly do not want to see any of you hurt. This could be important, ShaRhylla, please. What has happened to you? Who would call you?”

Phalomir waited, visions of a black day in his own life, when he met the man of tar. And a name whispered through his mind, a name he had heard during his imprisonment within the Tower, and a chill crept through him. An welcomed piece to a dark puzzle was waiting to drop into place.

She clenched her hands more tightly, swaying both with the effects of the brandy she had consumed and the effort of remaining silent. Somehow... something ingrained into her very being was whispering to her to remain still, to not give in, to not reveal--

To protect.

Memories arose then, ones forced into her consciousness, masking memories, ones intended to muddle her further. She clasped the sides of her head with both hands, struggling against them before suddenly giving in with a little sigh.

One in particular popped up, mocking her: it was the one in which she and Rykounagin were speaking of how they both appeared destined to be manipulated by others, where the halfling had vowed back she no longer would be a mere puppet to anyone.

Her eyes snapped open and pinned themselves upon Phalomir. Quite suddenly, he appeared to be the lesser of two evils.

"It was Him, the Dark One; he called himself Entaris, and he took me from this place--"

A trembling hand swept around, indicating not merely the Healing Chamber but the entirety of the Sith planet about them.

"M-mother retrieved me, she destroyed him I thought... and then one night he called to me and I found the thing in the cave."

She blinked, struggling against that which was yet ingrained within her.

"What is it?" she finally managed to whisper.

"And what is this Nar Kelba that you spoke of?"

...and all because of those who would be so foolish as to muddle in the affairs of something much greater--and unknown--to themselves. "I believe the Nar Khelba not only kills, but destroys the soul of a Force user. I do not know exactly how it destroyed the Tower...

"Force user? Why would the Master need this then?"

She swallowed, regaining her composure, though she was yet a trifle on the tipsy side. Frowning, she tried to concentrate, a feat most difficult for her under normal circumstances.

"Which is this soul-killer, the thing the Master is trying to retrieve or the Nar Kelba? For it sounds as if there are two items now that he is looking for...

"Who has it-- them now, anyway?" she finally asked.

“I do not know for certain who has them, but there is an odd sort of sense coming to light. This thing, the Finger of R’lous, it is deceitful. When I held it, it spoke to me. It was very convincing, telling me things I wanted to hear. Perhaps the things I most wanted to hear… But I believe that is how it operates, how it manipulates others to do what it wants them to do. But perhaps it found you, ShaRhylla, and told you the things it knew you wanted to hear.”

Phalomir scowled.

“And now Roan has it, or vice-versa. And—“

Phalomir paused again, realizing what Shayla had just said. He looked to her slowly.

She traied then, turning to ShaRhylla as her eyes defocused and darkened, "I'm afraid it is not the former Dark Lord who holds possession of it."

She paused again. "He does."

"Would somebody answer my question!" she miffed with a stamp of her foot.

"What does this Finger do, just worm into one's mind and promise it whatever one wishes to hear? That's not very dangerous, I wouldn't think, especially now that we are aware of the fact that this is what it does.

"Or is there more?"

She sent a questioning look back and forth between Phalomir and Shayla, letting that look finally come to rest upon the latter.

Phalomir shook his head.

“It allows the wielder to combine Sith magick with the All, providing an extremely powerful and dangerous energy. Combined with the Nar Kelba, who knows what it could do, beyond destroying the Tower. As for him, as lord of the Darker Realms, he would control Roan. He could force Roan to do things, say things… which would mean he wanted ShaRhylla and Rykounagin to…”

Phalomir trailed, turning his attention to the tipsy ShaRhylla.

“And I suspect he was responsible for holding Aelvedaar prisoner, and impersonated him for so long. He could also be impersonating Roan, for that matter…”

And for how long has he been doing just that? Indeed, he had us all fooled as Aelvedaar, could he have been impersonating Roan all the time before I killed him? If that is the case, then ShaRhylla is…

"I'm history, THORAN GET CEL!"

With that I dropped the hydrospanner, snatched up the entirely too pale Aaron, slung him over my shoulders with a strength inspired by pure terror, and shot to the Portal.

"K'kihl!!" I roared en route, and then everything went black and greeny-gold and suddenly there was--

--light and polite chatter and the clink of dinnerware.

I tumbled to the thankfully familiar stones of the floor, feeling the thankfully familiar heat of a nearby fireplace against my skin. Just managing to not whap Aaron against said stones, I caught myself on one knee--

Oww. Damn that's just gonna go SWELL with my ankle!!

--and shakily managed to regain my footing. Beneath the astounded stares of a wealth of Sith, I tottered to a nearby divan and deposited Aaron on it.

I then slumped to the floor, resting my head for a moment against the cushions behind me.

I closed my eyes with relief; then felt an upwelling rush of pain.

"My ship--!" I mourned.

A clatter of insectoid feet approached, and stopped in the nearby vicinity.

"My hydrospanner..." came an equally sad clack of mandibles.

...but he wasn't too not with it to not know what was going on. Granted, his personal view of everything now included a rather nice looking ceiling, but he could still sense eyes on him.

Startled eyes. Hopefully friendly ones, though.

Then, upon hearing Yaoksi's lament, Aaron immediately felt horrible for the man. After all, he knew how a spacer could be about his ship; man, did he know.

"Hell," he groaned, feeling a bit woozy as he shifted his head sideways, "I'm sorry."

Then realizing that their party wasn't complete, he made a final comment. "Oh kriffing hell, Thoran and Cel?"

"I-- they--" I began, then swallowed.

Hell, did we lose them?

I shuddered, cracked open one eye. Images of gradually approaching beings filled it, all claws and horns and fangs and red of skin...

I shuddered again, snapping the eye closed.

"I can only hope they're coming, I haven't heard the Portal close yet--

"Oh HELL!! ARE ANY OF THOSE DAMNED THINGS GETTING IN HERE?!?"

I shot upright at that, trying to put my eyes everywhere at once, much to the consternation and probable shock of our onlookers.

Cel landed with a thud on the hard stones. A blast of light emanated from behind the portal, followed by a shout and a diving Thoran.

Without hesitation he closed the portal, the angry cries of the other imp swallowed in the muffling schlick of space and time returning together.

"Healers! Water! Brandy!"

The Sith froze solid for the merest of moments, then burst into action. A young lady came over to Aaron and Yaoksi, asking after them and offering them cool, clear water to drink, while yet another approached the obviously injured Cel, offering to get her whatever she needed as she ushered her to another couch.

A third took the stunned Thea under her wing, mother-henned her to the nearest booth and ordered up some mynock milk for her, while yet another came up to the howling Thoran and dropped to her knees.

"Is there anything else we can bring you whilst we await the Healers?" she asked him prettily enough, handing him a brandy while studiously avoiding the large, and enlarging, black and purple and violet-dripping hole that looked to be engulfing his leg.

"Painkillers... caff... now..."

While he went of to hopefully gather some pain killers and caff I wandered back over to Aaron and Yaoksi.

"I know some basic first aid, until their healers get here I might be able to help Aaron"

It appeared the bleedind in his arm was the worse problem at the moment. I had nothing to help stop it with and could do little with one broken arm. seeing no other choice I took my tail and wrapped it around his arm as close to his shoulder as possible then tightned down on it, hopefully enough to stop the bleeding.

"Well at least you won't bleed to death now."

Smiling a bit lopsidedly, Aaron looked over to Cel as she remained steadfastly in place. "Thanks," he then said, "I owe you one."

Then he looked to Yaoksi, who had his fair share of injuries as well. "And I owe you one, and then some. We'll get your ship back..." he trailed, cringing a bit, "Or something."

Quieting at that, Aaron then found himself reeling over how carefully the Sith tended to all of them; one to the side comforting Thea, another assisting Yaoksi, yet another couple tending to Thoran.

"At least we got a good reception," he then said, even as a few more Sith with regal robes came in to tend to the wounded. Aaron looked towards the Sith nearest to him. "Thank you."

"Here is more brandy, good Sir; take a care, it is potent for one in such a condition as you," said the young female Sith, her sky-blue eyes still studiously avoiding the horrible and growing wound on Thoran's leg. Still, every so often she would manage the quickest of glances, if only to make certain that his entire leg hadn't yet been eaten away.

"Can I get you something else?" the adolescent Sith asked Thea, concern flooding her golden eyes for the fact that the young human had appeared to withdraw into herself.

Other Sith moved about, bringing fresh water and towels and brandy and food, until at last something like a shadow seemed to pass over them all en masse They all froze, rising to their feet to then stare down respectfully at the stone floor, as the Prime Healer entered the room and approached them.

He took but one look at Thoran's leg, another at Aaron's body-encompassing lacerations, and clapped his hoary, clawed hands.

"Take them to the Royal Healing Chambers; it is the closest, for two of these strangers need the most tender of care."

He then turned slowly round, casting a brief look down upon Cel -- who by this time had unwrapped her tail, albeit grudgingly, from Aaron. Another equally quick glance at Thea, and the choice was made.

"See to the younglings," he ordered, pointing at the young Sith who was trying to interest Thea in the mynock milk.

"Take care of Cel, Thea; I'll be right back."

I don't know if she heard me or not, I really couldn't tell much of anything except what her expression was sending out. And that was a sort of shocked disgruntlement; beside her, the young female Sith seemed harmless enough, smiling at me as she offerred Thea more of the milk.

As I was turning to follow the others I saw Cel pad over and slide into the booth across from Thea, her eyes growing dark but otherwise not appearing to look threatening.

Drawing a guilty breath, for every lick of me was screaming that I was abandoning the kids, I hurried after the departing Sith. For as much as I loved Thea, the cold hard facts were this: we undoubtedly didn't stand a ghost's chance of gaining anything from these people without Thoran's input.

And I was damned if I was just gonna sit there while they took him off to who the hell knew where. Not to mention what I thought of the only other human male around being likewise carted away to parts unknown...

No one stopped me, which was good. I was too tired to fight anyway. So my progress was unimpeded, if a bit hasty, and after a bit of time we entered into a room lined with beds filled with recumbent forms, and through which shadowy figures whispered.

The Royal Healing Chambers...

If Terrin and Galen and Jasyn and everyone was here, then where were they? Hadn't Thoran asked for them? Strange, he seemed to be doing well getting everything else he asked for...

Too mentally and physically exhausted to ponder upon this thought too long, however, Aaron gave up all thoughts of them for the moment as the Sith carried him into a large room filled with beds and settled him on one. A large Sith--sheesh, they were all large!--wearing yet more regal robes came to his side, muttering incantations in some foreign tongue, making equally as foreign motions with his hands. This continued for quite some time, and Aaron was beginning to feel all nice and warm inside.

He glanced over towards where a suddenly blurry figure that at least appeared to be Yaoksi stood. "You sho- ge- tha- lookt-a-" he muttered drowsily, pointing down towards Yaoksi's leg. Then, "Woner where our friens- are-?"

Dammit if the universe didn't then swim away into velvety silken slumber...

“Demon sting,” he said to the healer through clenched teeth. “Healing magick will stop it, but will not heal it. But got to—unh! Got to stop it now, before I lose my leg... maybe Gray...”

Thoran let his head fall back on the pillow. He clamped his eyes shut and fought through the growing pain.

“Who is here?” he asked, beginning to feel a fever come over him. “Shayla? Galen? Graysith? Phalomir?” Not realizing, his voice grew louder until it boomed in the hall. “Terrin? Salandaar?”

Thea looked up at her - it had to be a her by the sound of the voice. Her eyes were the strangest color Thea had seen.

"I... where... who... what... the creature... in... Praxeum... same... how... go home... to Jedi... Cella..." Thea's voice drifted off as she reached for the glass and took a small sip, not really tasting it or seeing what was in front of her. Her mind was flashing back to the day she was kidnapped from the Praxeum. Had it been the same creature on the Devil just now that had taken her then? There was something familiar about it but was it that? All she remembered was being given to the Evil One - and losing the Jedi. She had never seen Jeroc or Logan or Cella after that day. All because of Shayla.

The lady was worried about her, she was trying to help her. Thea took a breath and tried to find her voice again.

I grabbed onto the siths wrist very hard and made sure it noticed.

Falling silent at that, Shayla waited to see what else might be said...

...only to have her attentin drawn away by the sound of a booming, bellowing voice yelling something. And although she couldn't make out just what was being yelled, something about the sound was strangely familar.

Her eyes widened. "What was that?" she queried softly then. "I sense something..."

Again she trailed. Or perhaps you sense someone? came the final mental addendum.

Galen… Phalomir…

“There is someone calling out for people we know,” he said. He pulled the blanket tighter around him and looped it around himself like a toga, throwing the end over his shoulder. He walked to the doorway and pushed it open, and stepped into the hallway.

...and then that darkness faded into aloofness. She looked towards ShaRhylla, arching a brow, curiosity mingled with a touch of something else lurking in her eyes.

But then, the sound she had heard had stopped.

Crossing her arms, she didn't move a milimeter. "There is nothing to follow; whomever it is has stopped," she observed...

...stretching out then with other senses and talents in her possession to ascertain just why the voice of the yelling individual seemed familar to her.

She had barely settled herself upon the throne when a Sith of the higher echelon burst apologetically in upon her, bowing and showing respect as he hastened to the foot ot the dias. From there, his eyes peeled to the stones of the floor, he proceeded to explain succinctly all that was so suddenly occurring in the Temple: the sudden appearance of strangers, some of whom having been taken to the Healing Chambers; and now en route from Ch'arlingua came an unexpected arrival, yet another stranger who presented himself as Sorben Tarnus.

Her eyes darkened, but whether with foreboding or deep anticipation or perhaps at the influx of something other, something quite alien, none could say. She rose to her feet then, barking orders in a cool and commanding voice.

"See to the well-being of the... strangers, but keep them at all times under watchful eye. And now let the General approach, for I feel he has much to say."

Regaining her throne, she leaned gracefully forward, stopping the departing Sith with but a single word. She pinned his eyes with hers, then continued.

"As you depart make certain to place guards outside these doors. No one, and I do mean no one is to gain entry into this Grand Receiving Hall, save for the General.

"Upon pain of death... to you and whoever might enter. Do I make myself understood?"

Before her the Sith merely bowed, then departed, carefully closing both sets of doors in his wake. Cocking her head a bit to one side she concentrated, and at length caught the squeak of leather and clank of armor as that closed door was settled under guard.

Smiling darkly to herself, she settled more comfortably and waited for Tarnus to arrive from Ch'arlingua.

“Yes,” he said. “It did sound like Thoran. “While I did not have the opportunity to see him fulfill his promise, I have evidence that he did in fact. I shall therefore not kill him, but I do have questions for him.”

Phalomir turned back to Shayla, a slight grin on his face.

“And he did call for me,” he said. “And if he is visiting, a likely place to begin looking is the Grand Receiving Hall. However, since his voice was heard here, I would surmise that he is closer than that. The only place of consequence near here is the other room of the Royal Healing Hall.”

Phalomir turned and walked down the hall.

“And I think we should begin there!” he called back. He walked to the next door and turned to see if the ladies were following. “This could be important!”

He continue on and came to the door of the secondary Royal Healing chamber. He walked inside and stopped, seeing Thoran on a bed with a horrible wound on his leg. To either side was an unfamiliar human, also being attended to.

“Thoran?!” he called out, walking to the bed.

“Oh, finally!” he said. “Someone who can make something happen.”

He turned his head to look at the huge Sith who had finally come to the bedside.

“Nice toga,” he added.

Phalomir gave Thoran a quizzical look, which prompted him to continue.

"This is but a flesh wound!" she observed, crossing her arms and lifting her chin, although something deep inside her began to chuckle, remembering other such wounds, other times...

“Thoran,” he said. “You can tell me of your adventures later, yes. I want to thank you for following through with your promise to restore Jharmeen, but there are question I shall have for you when you recover. I do not know how to treat a demon sting, but I can place a protection upon the wound to prevent it from spreading further, as it appears to be doing.”

Phalomir held his hand over the wound and sent a series of energy blasts into the space around it, forming a layer of protective magick that settled down into the wound. The spreading instantly stopped, but Phalomir felt a backlash of darkness strike back through him. He narrowed his eyes and sent a more powerful blast though, and felt a satisfying crunch of power as whatever tried to strike at him was obliterated into nothing.

He let his hand fall, sudden realizing his legs were wobbly. He steadied himself on the bed, and staggered backwards. His other hand went to the nearest object, which happened to be ShaRhylla’s shoulder. He found his balance and withdrew his hand.

“My apologies,” he said. “I must still be feeling the effects of the Master’s attack.”

For a moment she stared down her nose at him. Then she extended a daintily clawed finger and jabbed it viciously into one of his more severe wounds.

"Wake up," she hissed, casting a brief glance toward Shayla before returning them, now slitted, to Aaron again.

"Who in all of S'slan's Circles are you?"

Still, he vaguelyi heard someone inquire who he was.

"Aaron...Barnes..." he whispered quietly, never opening his eyes...

Slitting her eyes, she stepped up to his bedside where ShaRhylla was yet glaring down upon him. "He's Terrin Danner's business partner," she growled. "But for what reason he is here..."

She paused a moment, whirling and glaring at Thoran, "I do not know nor understand."

Her eyes then shot to the nearby auburn-haired man with green eyes she'd never seen in her life. "Andyou? Just who the hell are you, and why are you here?" Shayla asked, pinning him with her greeny-blue eyes.

This, however, she at the moment deemed a mere waste of energies and abilities; again that bit of logic, so newly hatched within her, whispered deeply into her psyche.

Do not let these people know all you can do.

So she sniffed down her nose and turned away from the sleeping Aaron.

For what the hell was I supposed to do? Under normal circumstances, being confronted by two such beauties would send me into full-flash mode, so to speak.

But now...

A beaming smile, one large enough to show them not only every tooth in my head but my tonsils as well I'm sure, planted itself across my features. I shot out a hand, concentrating for all I was worth to keep it from shaking.

"Joao's the name, Captain Yaoksi Joao!" I said brightly, glancing from one to the other to spread that smile around.

"I'm with Lord Thoran here; we're all friends here, aren't we--?"

She straightened, glared at Cel with her eyes a-flame before managing to bring herself back into a more concerned frame of mind. But one that was now filled with genuine surprise.

"Painkillers?" she queried, shifting further away from Cel.

"Healers? For so mere an injury as a broken arm?"

She shook her head, caught the eye of an elder and clearly frowning Sith, then went on.

"If you insist, being a guest among us, of course we shall do our utmost to secure your full comfort and ease."

With that she rose and departed, going to the elder Sith to explain matters. That worthy in turn cut a brief, if somewhat astonished glance toward Cell; then with a somewhere imperious gesture she sent the younger Sith off on her errand.

The elder Sith now approached the pair.

"Is there anything else we might offer whilst the girl fetches a Healer; she stated your desire for a material called caff. This is something with which I am unfamiliar; if you desired it to alleviate your pain--"

A brief smirk flitted across her face.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah, I almost forgot! This is Captain Yaoksi and Aaron Barnes, but I thought that Shayla would know them. Guess not, eh?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice a hair.

“He’s been calling me ‘lord’ for some reason, I’ve been humoring him.”

He then leaned back and continued.

I turned my head to face the new sith.

"Caff, is a drink composed of a mild stimulant, after many years of consuming it I have a slight dependency on it. And no thanks on the brandy, with my luck lately it helps everyone but ryns."

Then she returned a somewhat muted, but still dark, gaze back to Yaoksi. "Your friend here is no lord at all; he is a pretender..."

Then, the darkness returning in her eyes, she looked back to Thoran. "In more than one way."

That gaze shifted one final time to Phalomir, the darkness not leaving the depths of her greeny-blue eyes, but instead growing impossibly deeper. "He did not keep his promise."

"Traitor?" she asked, blinking. "Warning? Please, if there is some excessive danger toward you of which we have no knowledge, let us know. This place is, after all, the heartbeat of the Warriors; you are in their Temple, in the great city of Phrinnchatka on the world K'eel Doba. As it is you are well protected here."

She then turned to the miffed Ryn.

"So you are a R-rr-rryn," she commented lightly, letting thr R roll out onto the air. About her other Sith murmured among themselves, some moving in more closely to observe, for of all the worlds of the grand and glorious Empire they once commanded -- and indeed, thought they yet did -- the planet of Cel's species had been ignored.

She looked at Cel for a long, curiously hard moment; then before the furry thing could so much as squeak she reached out and grasped the arm the young Ryn had been nursing. Her skilled hands ran up and down the limb, easily finding the break.

"It is a clean and simple one, not splintered or offset too badly; here--"

A sudden move: her other hand clamped the bone near the joint, the other holding below the fracture. A swift pull and twist, and the bone popped obligingly back into its proper setting.

"A simple enough procedure; all warriors... and warrioresses--" she added meaningfully. "--learn this from birth. This is a type of inconvenience we run into often, and we usually do not have the luxury of having a Healer nearby to pamper us."

Letting the arm drop, she nodded her head.

"We have no stimulants such as this caff of which you speak; indeed, it one who is dependent upon such affective substances is deemed weak among us. This, however, is something of which you simply do not know.

"All I can offer is brandy. If this is not to your pleasing, may I suggest you place yourself in meditation to alleviate what minute pain you might be experiencing now."

Again, this was a proper suggestion, if one the Sith thought somewhat surprising to have to say. For all the warriors learned how to implement such quieting and focusing procedures at quite an early age.

"Thank you, that was all I needed done in the first place. And on another note I am not a warrior, I am a slicer, but since you don't know what caff is you probably don't know what a slicer is either."

It was hard not to notice all these sith crowdind around me... in most places of the galaxy being ryn makes me unoticed and ignored, but here it seems to have an opposite effect.

I looked at Thea, though calmer then before she had a look of fear written on her face.

“Well,” he said, eyes narrowing. “If you mean my promise of putting Gray back together, I hardly got the chance! I went into the Darker Realms with everyone else, and I was able to get Gray's spirit free and installed into Shayla for safe keeping. Then we get sent to Tattooine while Aelvedaar fights off those dang white spiders, and before anyone knew it blondie here runs off, leaving us stranded! Then on Dagobah, however the heck she got Gray back in her body, I don't know, but when we go looking for her, the two of them shoved me through into the Elseness! I happened to find a doorway out, out of pure luck, and ended up on these guys’ ship. So I don’t know what she’s doing back here, Phal, but there is something up with her and I don’t like it one bit.”

He looked back to Phalomir, speaking quickly.

“And I think she did something with Erik on Dagobah, I was helping to look for him when-- holy crap! If the others aren’t here, they might still be back on Dagobah! Or worse!”

Thoran tried to rise, but didn't get too far. Still, he glared at Shayla.

"So, fess up, Shayla! What did you do with Erik? And why are you so bad-ass all of sudden? All this sneaky self-absorbed dark alley stuff! You're acting like... like the Master!"

I was marched across the tarmac, ushered into an underground transport of some type, and whisked from the spaceport into the city proper. We exited the transport to the streets of Phrinnchatka, a city both familiar and alien to me, for the last time I walked anywhere within it it was dark, devoid of life save for those few who were privileged to be here. I closed my eyes briefly, remembering that time, when I had come at the call of Galen to rescue our daughter.

Who purportedly was still here.

I had no reason to think otherwise; in fact, I had every reason to believe Galen's sister. So I marched rapidly along with the guard, neither trying to drag them back nor hasten them along, borne upon memories of days past and determination as to what I was going to do concerning those present.

Sith melted from our path, some stopping to bow their heads briefly, others simply scampering off to the sides of our little troop. Thus unimpeded, we made good time, and soon had come to that towering ediface I remembered so well: the Temple of the Warriors.

Up those imposing steps we marched, through the little shrine-like building at the apex of this facade, across the courtyard behind and into the Foyer. Through those shadowy pillars then, memories of my last flight through this very spot, then with all the demons from hell snapping at my heels. I blinked; writhing, gibbering imps sequed into...

Nothing but shadows. Shadows coming at me from a corridor we had suddenly entered; I stiffened, chastising myself for replacing reality with memories, and looked ahead. We had come to an enormous set of heavily guarded, ornate doors; one of the Sith in my entourage stepped forward and spoke to them.

They bowed, raising the spears with which they had been blocking the door, obviously allowing us entry. The same Sith who had spoken now reached out, opened those doors; they oiled open easily and silently, letting me momentarily marvel at this feat of engineering these people had produced. Then my momentarily wandering mind snapped into sharp focus:

She rose to her feet, there upon the high-set throne upon which she had seated herself. She even deigned to move forth, coming down a couple steps, undoubtedly to make me feel more at home in her presence, more of a peer and less of a...

A what? An enemy? A serf?

I frowned behind my Mandalorian helmet and straightened, going so far as to cross my arms when the escort bowed en group and drifted off to either side of me.

"Where is she?" I spat, coming right to the point.

Silence was my only response; I felt a little ripple of unease run up and down my spine, red flags waving, as Galen was so wont to say, throughout every cell of my being. My teeth gritted as I clenched my jaw, then I spoke up boldly once again.

I could not let her know of my rising unease, of the barest hint of fear that was beginning to whisper in the corners of my mind...

Thea backed away from the lady next to her and looked up at her as if she had three heads. "If Shayla is here you are protecting the traitor!"

Thea took a breath and looked at Link, "I started to tell you about my start at the Praxeum. Shayla is the reason we left the first time. It was to find and rescue her - but she turned on us."

Turning back to the other being and standing she continued raising her voice louder and louder as she went on, pacing around the table. "Shayla betrayed the Jedi. She let that woman torture Logan. He was like my brother, he was teaching me when his master was too busy trying to help that traitor. When Cella was helping Jeroc. We got him out and left. But then she helped kidnap me from the Praxeum, I know she was part of it. And I know Cella died because of that. I know she was trying to save me - it was while I was gone with them that I lost contact with her forever. She was weak at the time I could tell. I wouldn't put it above Shayla to have killed her herself! The Jedi who trained her - who did all she could to help her! The one who took me in to train - me - a nervous little youngling. Cella was a great master and she took her time to be with me, to care for me. Anyway, Galen eventually got us both out of the cave they put me in - with her. But we ran into Shayla again, and this time she would have let that Graysith - the evil one - kill me. Luckily Master Shawn and Loban rescued me from her for the last time. She didn't try to get me back again, maybe because she had already gotten what she wanted - Cella, Jeroc, and Logan are dead - the Praxeum destroyed, and I never got trained. I was left with Yaoksi soon after being rescued as Master Shawn had to go after Loban who had disappeared."

"Thea, I have told you this before my knowledge of the world you came from is like your knowledge of mine. I honestly am confused at this point, but if this person is as bad as you say she is then lets find Yaoksi."

I peered over to the sith.

She nodded to them both.

"The one you refer to as Yaoksi accompanied others to the Royal Healing Chamber, where two of your companions are being treated for grievous wounds."

She paused. "Under normal circumstances I would not allow you to go there, for those ill or injured enough to be taken there are not allowed to have visitors, however..."

She smiled gently at them.

"Your distress is in turn distressing. Since your companion Yaoksi was not himself placed there for healing purposes, I will take you to him."

Gesturing gracefully toward the door, she began to lead them from the little bar, into the Grand Dining Hall and across to the double set of doors which opened onto the corridor beyond.

"Only your presence here, Tarnus!" she hissed, the sound of those five words striking against him like an adder. A slim finger lifted, and the honor guard promptly segued into a military squad, which immediately surrounded him, disarming him so fast he had no time to prepare any defense. The began to move out with him, heading to the dungeons deep within the bowels of the Temple, but were halted by a single hissed word.

"No."

They came to a crisp and obedient halt, turning him back around to face the Dark Lady of the Sith. Or someone they at least believed to be her; smiling darkly she finished descending from the dias to lay a finger against the place on his helmet where his lips would be.

"Shush now, no complaints, my dear Lt. General," she said, her voice honeyed.

"Observe."

With that she dropped her hand, letting the arm fall limply to her cloak. She closed her eyes, as if concentrating; then after a moment both arms began to slowly raise upward as her head tilted back. The hood of her cloak fell back, exposing flaming red hair which tumbled down her back like a lava flow.

And then she let loose with all of her talents... and horrifyingly enough, more than her talents. She stretched back, back, into a place of dark terror, to a tower newly risen, newly powered. Connecting there, she then reached forward, upward and outward, and as her Sire had managed to do so seemingly long ago created a chronotic shield in the heavens about K'eel Doba.

And it's moon.

And it's sister planet... and star.

An enormous chronotic shield...

...which simply plucked the system from the very face of existence and tucked it away into a place where even nightmares fear to tread. Or so it would seem to an outside observer.

Straining, the Graysith-thing managed a smile as with an effort even greater she gave that shield a push, sending it expanding rapidly outward in all directions like some kind of infernal shockwave. It boomed out in deadly silence, travelling at the speed of light, touching a bit of dust here, a passing asteroid there, converting them into their energy equivalents which then dissipated back and forward across the continuum of Time.

And then it found the ships...

She smiled when the rebounding shockwave struck back, rocking the system, sending foundations to rattling and trees to swaying and oceans to sloshing upon K'eel Doba and its sister.

Every living thing on the two planets promptly losts its footing, and went down. All save an oily-eyed thing, which had been prepared.

Her smile grew crooked, lascivious, her eyes now twin holes into eternity. She pinned them on the fallen human, watched with glee as he fought to regain his footing in the tangle of arms and legs and spears and horns he now found himself in.

She nodded gracefully, ever the concerned hostess.

It scarcely had taken a minute, so it seemed. Perhaps the time was longer, but no more than ten for the universe to depart from orderly calm to utter chaos.

Landarian, sitting comfortably in the command chair aboard Relentless, was not only duly following his protocols but was making certain his superior's last commands were being carried out. Communiques winged between SSDs, lifelines remaining intact between the vessels of the blockade as it moved out, spreading itself thin, to his thinking, but far enough away from the planet Relentless yet orbited for assured safety. That they could take on anything vessel that flew was a given; but who knew what planet-based armaments existed here.

And a single SSD can slip away faster than a Dagoban nightbat, he reasoned, finally coming to some sort of reconciliation with this last order.

So they remained at the LaGrange point, waiting to retrieve Lt General Tarnus...

When all hell broke loose.

"Sir!" an Ensign exclaimed, yanking himself from his scanners in disbelief.

"I'm not getting any reading, sir! I mean, I read the planet and its moon, and outward to about 586 million klicks... and then nothing!

"Sir!"

Landarian was on his feet in an instant, leaped a handrail and approached the Ensign.

"You're not malfunctioning, Ensign?" he asked, staring at the impossibility with his own eyes.

"No, Si-" came an immediate reply... but one truncated as two other impossibilities occurred in tandem.

Space reappeared about the mysterious blank zone. Completely, shockingly, and utterly unexpectedly empty of ships.

And something rammed into Relentless like a herd of runaway rontos.

"Engage emergency inertial dampeners!" Landarian yelled out reflexively as the gigantic SSD rocked back and forth like a cork in water.

"And find out what the hell hit us, and where it came from!"

The Ensign didn't even reply; he just let his fingers begin a wild tarantelle upon his boards. And after an agonizing five or six seconds had passed, seconds in which the great ship finally managed to come back to an even keel, he turned back in shock.

"I- I'm not certain, Sir! Something I can't even get to register, kind of a sphere of... of nothing, like a shell or some kind, just... appeared out there, and it seemed to move outward, er I think. I think the center of that sphere was this planet, Sir; it's difficult to tell, but what few readings I could get verified information from 586 million klicks in all directions from here. What I am certain of though, is that things appear normal now... except..."

He gulped.

"S-Sir," he struggled to maintain military decorum.

"Th-the blockade, Sir. It's gone."

Landarian jerked his face to the starfield shining so innocently on the forward viewport. Then--

"Battle stations!" he barked.

"Send a coded message to the General; he knows directives as well as I. As of this moment my primary duty is to this ship and the crew aboard her; we will return for him! But now I want a course plotted to Coruscant, and emergency hyperdrive implementation--

"NOW!"

Fingers flew, klaxons blared...

And the ship accelerated out of orbit, flew to the barest minimum distance from the gravity well that K'eel Doba warped into spacetime, and fled into the relative safety of hyperspace.

((OOC: Look for their reappearance in the thread Back Into The Fire in the "Empire/Republic" forums, thank you.))

She grabbed the vibroblade she had dropped and tucked it into her belt where it would be hidden by her bag but still easy to access should she need it.

Then Lt. General Sorben Tarnus, third in command of the budding and purportedly voracious New Empire, was led away. The double doors closed with finality upon their new prisoner, surrounded and guarded once again by warriors faithful to her.

Literally.

As the earth below her shook, Shayla found absolutely nothing to latch onto for support. So instead she fell into a heap on the floor of the Royal Healing Chambers and remained there, reaching out with her talents to access just what had happened...

...and was slammed with something oily and dark and completely...

...familar. She stretched out further, that darkness pervading her senses...

...and there she found it. Thousands of life-forces, snuffed out...

...completely. And while many lives were suddenly silenced, no one in Shayla's immediate environment seemed anything other than merely harmed.

Still....what had such power to create such loss?

Something deep within Shayla rose its voice in answer, oiling up from underneath the surface.

"Bad-ass indeed," she whispered, getting to her feet, her eyes dark.

“What have you done, Shayla?” he asked in a low voice that sounded more like the beginning rumblings of a growl. He stared deeply into Shayla’s dark eyes, seeing now the blackness within. “What darkness now inhabits you?”

And Thoran heard it.

Her hand launched itself toward his throat, claws extended for attention.

"You shall not kill my mother!" she growled, squeezing her nails deeply into the flesh on both sides of his windpipe, blocking his air intake just enough to make him begin turning the most royal shade of reddish-violet.

"If this is what you plan, you will have to get through me, and all the Warriors of Phrinnchatka, first!"

What in blazes was I doing on the floor?!

--on my hiney, myriad tiny aches and pains beginning to holler for attention. But through that rising melee I heard other words, words I didn't like in the least little bit.

What's all this about killing--?

I swallowed, craned upward, for suddenly I was unwilling as hell to bring any sort of attention to myself whatsoever. My shocked gaze encompassed the glowering Sith Lord, the blond, whose eyes had suddenly turned into something reminiscent of old jet fuel, and the young red-headed lady with the horns--

The horns?!?

--who was trying to choke Thoran to death, or so it seemed.

Ohh-hh, Aaron buddy, if there was ever a time you should wake up, it's now! I couldn't help thinking.

The veritable bantha poodoo just hit the exhausts, pal; I've got a ba-aad feeling about this!

I was beginning to try to find a nice little hidey-hole in which to make myself invisible, when delayed reaction brought Round Two slamming into my aching head.

The kids!

I groaned involuntarily; certain then that I had been heard, I rose shakily to my feet.

No one appeared to be giving me much notice, so I just smiled and began slinking toward the door.

"I'm just gonna go check on Thea and Cel, and see if they're ok, so if you guys don't mind..."

I forced a smile, stuck a thumb over my shoulder at the door and kept on moving.

“Then help us,” he said, the air now flowing through his windpipe. “There is a terrible darkness within her, using her. It gives her balance, strength, but at a terrible price. If there is a way to save her, then it is only with your help.”

Thoran flicked his eyes to Phalomir, who stood gaping, hand still poised to strike at Shayla but no longer with that intent. Thoran glanced then at Shayla, who returned with a glare that would melt iron.

“Can you sense it now within Shayla?” he asked, still staring at the blonde woman. “It knows you, ShaRhylla. All beings from the Darker Realm know you. And who is it you would kill me for? Your mother?”

Then she yanked her hand from Thoran's grip.

"I am used by no one; all I do, I do for me!" she hissed, the words so low that Thoran, the one closest to her, barely heard them. For a moment she stuggled, vascillating, a rudderless ship bobbing about in an ocean suddenly far far too deep, far far too dark for her to handle.

Well she remembered the Darker Realms, her time there... what Entaris had done...

...followed by the actions of her mother.

She swayed, nostrils flaring with indecision. And then she broke.

"Shayla, come with me!" she cried, flouncing from the Healing Chambers and barking orders that all there be "kept under watchful eye, that their healing might show the true disposition of the Sith warriors."

Her eyes blinded with anger, she didn't even notice the auburn-haired human, who tried to make himself a tapestry against the wall as she flung herself past him and into the corridor, heading off to seek the only one she thought she could really trust at that moment:

Her mother.

And she didn't even truly know if the Dark Lady had returned to the Temple...

Home... A place where the heart is, where the heart finds peace... He wasnt sure if he had a place, but if such a place existed...perhaps this was it...or could become it.

He had been away for so long...so very long, but he was home...hopefully he could reuinite with his mother...his dear mother...

the boy snuck his sleeve to his eye to wipe away the beginings of a tear. It the anticipation felt good, but hopefully the conclusion would feel better...

He smiled to himself as he strode down the hallway, the brillient white robes he wore flowing around him as though he were some priest carrying the word of some higher being, he almost looked mature...almost looked older then the boy of 15 that he was... But he still had that hint of giddyness in his step...that hint of boyish unrestraint... But he was trying...

Training...everyday was training...every moment a chance to better yourself...or so his father had told him before letting the boy go off on his own, a bit that had taken more then some time to convince the old warrior of, but he had done it...just barely.

But he had agree'd to take every moment he could to better himself...and so it was, that he strode down the hallway, extending his budding senses outword in an attempt to locate someone familiar. All the while holding his own presence as descreetly back as he could...

His father had taught him the principle, though Recinis had never been very good at it himself. But jharu had taken off with it...it was a hunting technique, to allow ones will to be hidden, to become less then a tiny ripple on the fabric... ancient hunters had used it to be able to get within touching distance of their prey... And while it was not as effective on beings of higher brain functions, so long as they werent looking for him, he suposed he would be ok...after all...on the sith world, what was one more sith among the bunch?

he smiled, truely pleased with himself. He had asked those that met him as he returned to the city to let him pass without word, he wished to suprise his mother, if she were home. He was not sure if they had heeded his request, but he hoped they had... Soon he would find out he suposed...

He was winding through the hallways still, when it struck. it seemed as though all of existence simply shuttered around him, physicaly and mentally, throwing him off his balance. the reflexes his father had honed into him were quick...they were not however, that quick, and he went reeling into the wall. Though is reflexes were quick enough, and his balance sturdy enough to keep him from undertaking an injury of any true concern, though he was definately not unscathed...

when the universe had come to its rightness once more, through all the chaos, he stood and regained his barrings. Shaking his head gently he looked about, and went to assist those he could, when he had seen to them, he decided he should seek out the healers...see if he could perhaps help...see if there was anything he could do... Or in the very least...see for himself and hope that no one was seriously injured.

He entered the room to find a razor sharp tension within the air. A tension that made him feel sick deep within... Looking about he saw the familiar face of shayla...he had not known her to well...but he knew her face... And...another woman who had just rushed past him...She held a resemblence to his mother...and yet..she was very much different...and without a doubt sith blood within her... Could this be the sister i was told of?
He shook his head and returned to the matter at hand...This is not right...They should not be focused on eachother like this

For a moment the boy forgot that he was a child, and that those within this room were elder, and likely to pay him no heed...for a moment his spirit was as grown as it could be, and his voice came accross calmly and clearly

"Stop...whatever has caused this tension...release it...anger will not solve anything. Fighting...only creates more pain..." The sadness and sincerity in his eyes were undeniable, and his voice echoed his true concern...All i ever wanted...for as long as i can remember...is to be with my mother...will that day ever come again? Will i ever experience joy? it seems as though i was born for conflict...yet all i desire is peace...

After the thought crossed his mind, he realized that he was perhaps the yongest in this room...a boy of 15...likely to be dismissed or ignored immediately...But he held his steel as best he could...He was a warrior.. He was sith...he was the son of Jharmeen and Recinis...He was proud of his blood...and he knew his words were true...even if his voice was small.

He only hoped that he was not shaking on the outside...

Her smoldering eyes fell on him. "You speak of things which you do not understand," she growled, her greeny-blue eyes locking on his own. "Out of my way, now!" she finished, using only her Force-ability to shove Jharu from her path and mvoing then to join ShaRhylla.

"She is in the Receiving Hall," Shayla said, a small portion of her being raising its head in surprise that she knew this at all...

“You arrive at a very inconvenient time, lad,” he said. “Dark forces are gathering, and you should be off to your own home now…”

Recognition came to Phalomir as he now got a closer look at the boy’s face.

“…Jharu?” he asked, uncertain. “No, it couldn’t be, you were just this tall when…”

He was helped to his feet by a man he did not recognize..

"i am jharu...but...who are you?"

“I am Lord Phalomir, of the Armorers. We met some time ago, when you were here with your father.”

Phalomir walked to Thoran’s bed with Jharu. “Forgive me, but I am confused, you grew very quickly! And you have indeed arrived at a rather dark time. Have you, um, seen your mother? And Recinis, is he here?”

"Phalomir...i think i remember..."

he then shook his head, "i havnt seen my mother...i was hoping she would be here...i've...i've missed her..."

he then looked up and focused on phalomir again, "My father is not here...he is still in the wilds of the planet...training... I believe he feels he is not ready to face the universe again... His heart is in chaos..."

...doors tightly closed and guarded by a phalanx of warrors. That they hadn't come through the chaos completely unscathed was evident by the way their robes and armor hung a bit askew upon them, by the somewhat shaken look in their eyes.

But that look hardened as she and Shayla approached, and shaking arms grew firm enough to block the doors with crossed spears.

ShaRhylla drew herself up, beside herself at this obvious insult to her station.

"I am the daughter of the Dark Lady and Heiress Apparent to the Warrior clan!" she snarled, rearing back like an adder, preparing to strike.

The guards, standing firmly, somehow managed to bow and scrape before her, but did not give their ground.

Rage flashed through the young halfling, flaming her with such intensity that she absolutely did not hear them explaining humbly that it might very well be her own execution their apparent cheekiness was preventing.

"This has not been a good day."

We all came to out feet, luckly this time none of us got hurt... or at least I didn't. We where about to continue on when I saw Yaoksi comming towards us. I turned to face Thea.

"Well that simplifed things."

I then faced the sith to direct my question to her.

"You will allow us entrance," Shayla spat, her greeny-blues locking with those of each warrior present and not wavering in the slightest.

Stretching out then, her senses keenly attuned and honed to all that surrounded her, Shayla outstretched a single arm, palm outward and fingers extended. Something dark and overwhelmingly powerful blasted forth from there, so much so that the Sith warriors were knocked aside and from their feet altogether in a heap. Shayla but merely looked at the Receiving Hall doors in that moment, and they oiled open without so much as a touch.

"It was the direct order of the Dark Lady herself," he stated, his eyes unwavering, his aching body held ramrod-stiff.

"No one, and she did emphasize no one was to enter, save for one, who has come and gone."

He paused a moment.

"Upon pain of death, not only for myself and my warriors but for those who would manage to be let through as well."

Now his eyes flicked back into Shayla's, a corner of his lip curled.

"You are above the Law, then?" he asked, then snapped his mouth shut and gripped his weapon more tightly.

"I-- no, no it does not."

Her brows rose then, as the auburn-haired human who had come in the party of strangers approached them, increased his pace, came at them all in a rush to then fall on his knees and envelop the two in an enormous bear hug, one in each arm.

Her brow rose further.

...and a portion of Shayla Stargazer which was much more the Shayla everyone knew crept forth. "I gave my life for her once," she replied coolly, simply. "I would do it a thousand times more. But, if she said no one else should enter...

...then so be it. There are other ways."

Dropping her one extended hand at that, Shayla stood motionless for a moment, her greeny-blue eyes piercing those of the lead warrior. Then, without so much as a word, Shayla knelt to the ground, her hands falling into her lap as she then closed her eyes. Stretching out into the Link which connected her with Graysith, she then channeled healing energies not only of the Force but of the All itself into the crumpled form of the Dark Lady of the Warriors, without moving so much as a milimeter from her place in front of the grand Receiving Hall doors.

“I guess that means they don’t want to help us?” he asked. “I did say we wouldn’t have to kill Graysith if they helped, right?”

Thoran shook his head. “As if we could.” He looked into Phalomir’s eyes, coldly. “As if you could. I know what she means to you, but think of what she is becoming, and what she is probably going through internally right now.”

Thoran sighed.

“I could feel that power, it came right out of the Darker Realms, Phal. And that look in Shayla’s eyes, it was the same exact thing I saw in Panthar’s eyes, before the oily crap came out of him. A piece of that got into Gray’s spirit, I’m telling you, and it must have infected Shayla as well while she carried Gray inside of her. And I have a really bad feeling about who, or what, that darkness serves.”

Thoran shook his head and looked at Jharu, noticing he wasn’t just another healer.

"Coward!" she hmmphed, now stepping boldly forth, jumping lithely over Shayla to come to a nose-to chest stop in front of the head warrior.

She glared up at him, still seething.

"I am not above the Law; I AM the Law!" she spat before shooting out an arm into the Sith's sternum, fingers together like spikes, bolstered by the innate powers she possessed yet did not know fully how to control.

The guard went flying up the door, up to the arching stone ceiling overhead, sliding there to come to a halt directly overhead. Ignoring the whump which sounded behind her, she shot forth her other hand, blasting the doors into splinters.

Lifting her attire daintily, she tiptoed up to the crumpled Lady of the Sith, and fell to her knees beside her.

"Oh, poor poor Mother," she sighed as she touched her lightly upon her head. For a moment she trembled; human half fighting nightmare within her, then settled at length in a protective posture over the yet unconscious Dark Lady of the Warriors.

Cella...

My grip tightened to where Thea gave out a little squawk; jerking myself back to here and now, I let the arm encompassing Link now drop so the hand attached to it could attach itself on Thea's other shoulder. Half-kneeling, I stared her straight in the eye.

"I--" I paused a moment, remembering the darkness oiling in the blonde's eyes, remembering the sensation of utter cold that had pervaded my body, the feeling of complete hopelessness that had swept through my heart when she had stormed past me, luckily ignoring me as being no more than a bug to her.

My grip tightened again.

"I think you're right, hon."

Now I looked up to the elderly female Sith, who was doing a magnificent job of masking the fact that she was in obvious pain of some sort. Oh, not that her body language gave it away; it was, rather the brightness in her eyes.

"I think it's time we headed back to the Healing Chambers..." I said in an urgent voice, nodding my head back toward the direction from which I had come.

"There's something really not right here..."

I didn't even give the kids a chance to reply. I just got to my feet, grabbed a hand, warm and clammy, in one hand and another, soft and furry, in the other. Gesturing to the elderly Sith, I simply began moving swiftly down the hall again, trying to be as silent as a mouse so as to not draw any unwarranted attention our way.

...and thus through that Link Dark met Dark once more, and something oily danced and rejoiced in recognition. Still, beneath the this, something Else met as well...

...and through it Graysith's body began to recover from the stress it had undergone, stirring.

...and wasn't aware of the shaking of the entire planet of K'eel Doba either. He slowly began to stir, however, coming to the awareness of several male voices nearby. Finding that he was actually feeling worlds better, despite a pain here or there, he opened one eye, then the other, and turned his head to the bed next to Thoran was not there.

Well,maybe Sith are really fast healers???

The voices started to grow clearer. Aaron could swear one of them was Thoran. Carefully, he sat up on his elbows, frowning as he noted an overturned table here and there, shifted furniture, including beds, and an unconscious healer on the floor.

What the hell...?

Frowning more deeply, Aaron swung his legs over the side of the bed, noting in shock that he was wearing some sort of robe for only a moment before focusing on far more important matters:

Three persons in the door: One Thoran, another Sith, and a very young Sith.

"Ummm...what the hell happened here?" he queried, still not fully awake.

"wha...what do you mean...you might have to kill my mother? I dont know whats going on here, but that can not happen! Why would you have to kill my mother?" his voice was filled with concern, his mind spinning.

He heard the voice of the previously unconcious human, and turned, eyes locking onto him, "I...I dont know whats going on...but...but...I wont let them kill her...whatever is going on...there has to be a better way...no..."

Thea looked over at Yaoski and Link. They both seemed calm enough, yet she could not get rid of this overwhelming sense of fear. What have I gotten myself into? How could I just blindly walk into a Sith fortress? Why didn't I pay more attention to the final destination when we were told about this?

Trying not to panic, Thea did the only thing she could think of to steady her nerves. She began reciting her lessons. Listening to Cella's voice in her memories she began reciting the Code under her breath, concentrating on each word, letting her foster father guide her safely through the corridors.

Smoothly, Shayla opened her eyes, looking down at the floor, and rose to her feet. "There is a threat to the Dark Lady's life which must be...

...addressed," Shayla then said quietly, her voice deceptively calm, her eyes not meeting those of any Sith warrior before her for the longest period of time. Finally, however, Shayla did look up, the oily other-ness now totally untraceable from her features. Nodding once then to the warriors at the doors of the Receiving Hall before moving further. "I shall return to await her," she said to them, turning on her heel and heading directly back the way she had come to begin with, drawing a Force-shield about herself to disguse herself from prying eyes and ears.

Only when she finally arrived at the entry-way to the Healing chambers where Lord Phalomir and the others stood chatting did Shayla stop in her tracks.

And there they all were, chatting about the Dark Lady's destruction as though it were the current topic on the Holonet...

"You will not destroy her!" Shayla snapped, her voice strill and yet strong at the same time as she interrupted the careless discussion. "You will not destroy us; such pale beings who sit and chat and make claims without action do not deserve to inherit the keys to the kingdom, nor the floors of its dungeons. Still..."

Rage intermingled with something that almost was akin to amusement swirled in the sea of Shayla's eyes. Before anyone in that room had a chance to react, she stretched out with one hand, palm outward and fingers extended...

...and let go. In a blinding moment, furniture began to shift across the room at an alarming rate of speed, wood began to splinter, glass to shatter...

...and all beings in the room were lifted into the air under her rather skillfull telekenetic ability.

"And rather that you all should die, I find it better that you should live, and know that your actions will always be futile, if in fact you ever deem it time to do anything at all."

Extending both hands then, both palms down, pure dark-Force shot forth from her, impacting every person in the room, slamming them against walls to then crumple to the floor.

In that moment, Shayla stretched out, darkness and rage and anger taking firm hold in her soul.

They would destroy the one in Perfect bAlance. This cannot be.

Reaching out one final time then, Shayla slammed the door of the entry-way where she stood, remaining there as the door boomed closed in finality behind her. Then she stretched out, seeking something deep within herself, something untrained yet still most certainly there.

They would destroy her unless they are stopped, and now...

And the Dark Lady's face abruptly rose.

Her eyes, brilliant violet, matched the Glyph now ablaze upon her forehead. Then bit by bit that electromagnetic splendor dampened, bit by bit the burning violet color of her eyes was supplanted by sickly, oily black.

A smile as dark crept slowly across her features...

"Goood, my S-sisssterr..." she hissed, a sound which would hold death itself in thrall.

"I had wondered for a time... but you redeem yourself, this time..."

Now she rose to her feet, banking the oil, adjusting her attire, calming herself until she was once again every bit the Dark Lady of the Warriors whom the Sith knew. She held out a hand to ShaRhylla, began stepping down from the dias when she stopped.

She cocked her head, concentrating.

He was back.

Her eyes slitted the tiniest bit; then she spoke, her voice as soft as spun spider's-silk.

"Come, my daughter; let us not be remiss in our duties as Ladies of the Temple and thus Hostesses to our guests."

Her lip curled in a crocodile smile, and she swept through the splintered doors, her halfling daughter in tow, heading toward the Royal Healing Chambers of the Temple.

... only to run smack into what sounded like a murder of rancors disemboweling a herd of rontos. Slowly, and with great determination.

Our momentum carried us the final meters to the Chamber, worry now lending its helpful touch in moving us along.

Oh ye ghods, I hope that doesn't bode ill for Aaron...!

We didn't lose a lick of that momentum as we skidded up to the door, which I somehow must have opened even as we moved, for I sure as hell don't remember much other than us bursting into the room...

I knew it was her before I even took a really good look, for once again I was filled with a chill as icy as space.

Oh HELL.

I released Thea's and Link's hands, and shoved them behind me.

"Get back to the nice lady Sith... NOW!" I ordered as beads of sweat sprang up on my brow and began trickling insidiously into my eyes.

What was interesting was that the rubble could have been created by weapons fire, but none of it appeared to have been caused by blasters, and even stranger still was the fact that all of it looked as if it was physically torn apart from the inside. Whatever could do that would scare me.

I grabbed Thea with my good arm and almost dragged her as I retreated out the door.

"Yaoksi is right on this one Thea, we run."

He looked around at the ruined room, and the devastation incurred within. All about the wall was strewn beds and linen and equipment, covering and supporting various bodies. Some stirred, others did not, twisted in unnatural ways, and in one case a head faced upwards when the body did not.

Phalomir felt a heat rising within him, and when his eyes came to rest on the blonde woman standing in the room, as if waiting, his magick instinctively rose to defense.

“Shayla!” he bellowed, fire in his voice. “This is not the way!”

He stopped, inhaling deeply.

Slowly his world stabalized, and the boy stood...Stood and looked around, standing still while his balanced returned.

he looked in time to see phalomirs back, and heard a ringing as perhaps someone yelled...maybe it was phalomir...he wasnt sure, everything was still fuzzy...Hold fast jharu...a Warrior soul...approach every problem. Be true...Be true...

He heard the quiet presence of the elresar at his side within his mind, and nodded...the swords words made perfect sense to him...He must approach the problem calmly and be true to himself. Though he didnt understand what was going on, he could not let the first glance of things disturb his judgement...

His senses returned and he came to view the sight of phalomir and shayla facing eachother, quietly the words rolled in an almost timid fashion, like a boy who had just learned not to stick his finger in a light socket.

"will somebody...please tell me what is going on? and why people want to kill my mother?"

“Shayla, unless you bear claim to the Clan over which I hold lordship,” he said flatly, “you will let me pass now and not attack me again. I will hold counsel with my lady and finally obtain the facts I came here to find. I know she is here.”

Phalomir stepped forward, towards the door, and continued to walk towards the gaping pale human he saw there, waiting to see what Shayla intended.

Yegods, all I wanted to do was help get Captain Danner back again, I owed him that much! And his spunky little wife, and the rest of Aaron's missing friends.

Then I wanted nothing more than to celebrate with them all in the biggest hot spring Sullust had to offer... assuming the Impys had left them in one piece, that is.

But here I was instead, right in the middle of some kind of weird nightmare from which I just couldn't seem to wake up. A fleeting image of white fur and a braid niggled then in the corner of my mind, and I firmed, clenching my jaws.

Damned if I wasn't going to give the kids as much running room as I could; I'd figure out a way to get to them later.

If there was a later.

And so I stood my ground, my eyes trying to be everywhere at once, my lips now bleeding for the way I was so furiously chewing them, suddenly conscious of the blaster in my hand.

Then turning to Yaoksi, she smiled a bit darkly at his pointed blaster. "Now that will do you little good," she commented, first pointing to his blaster and then stretching out with the Force to pluck it from his hands and draw it to her own.

"Perhaps you should instead be concerned with your friend over there," she continued, nodding to Aaron, who was down for the count on the floor once more.

Stretching out once more to her senses then, the darkness within her sensed the approach of familar darkness. "at any rate, she comes now," Shayla commented, looking down momentarily as she glared at the blaster in her grasp, recalling a day when another weapon--her own lightsaber--had dissolved from her grasp for eternity.

“Then I shall wait,” he said patiently.

He turned a careful eye towards Jharu, still wary of the situation.

“There is a long story to tell,” he said. “But for now know that we suspect your mother has a darkness within her, one which may have come from the realm of spirits. Shayla here also has this within her. But mean them no ill will…”

Phalomir turned to look again to Shayla.

“For they remain still the ones we love, and no harm shall come to them.”

A second or so ticked past; I peeped one eye open, drawing in an involuntary gasp of surprise to find myself not only alive, but unharmed. Then her words wormed into my head, and I cautiously flicked my gaze to the quiet form she had indicated.

Aaron.

I wavered, caught between a bantha and a Tusken Raider.

The approaching horned giant, when considered along with the fact that my blaster had seemed to find itself a new home, made up my mind for me. Before Blondie changed her mind about leaving me in relative peace, or at least in one piece, I sidled over to Aaron, and knelt down beside him.

Years of spacefaring had by necessity taught me the rudiments of nursing; my quick manhandling of him determined that there was nothing broken, but from the size of the bruise on his forehead which let forth a slight stream of blood I wa fairly certain we could add a concussion to his list of earlier injuries.

I sent a heated look toward the blond, who seemed preoccupied with the giant, started to say something, changed my mind, and went back to nursing Aaron the best that I could.

Jharu. Dear gods, it was, it WAS! It was her dear son returned!

--grew stronger with the proximity, giving her the impetus to at least try and struggle.

Shush, you! the Graysith-thing told herself, quietly in her own mind, in her own being.

They can never gain you back, you are now mine, ours; just as is the Daughter!

The feeble mote sruggled vainly, but only succeeded in strengthening the resolve and awareness of That Which Held Her.

Which, as it thrust her deeply into something like a tiny kernel that had once held another, far and away when razored-claw had gripped it tight tight, now turned outward, seeking to touch Itself that was in the Other.

She frowned at the second seeming failure on the part of this New Experiment.

This shall be dealt with as well, the Thing peeped open the kernel a crack to chuckle at the cowering Jharmeen, who lay in virtual fetal position, lost within her own psyche.

It is not proving an appropriate vessel, it fills then spills, fills then spills--

The unspoken words segued into maniacal inner laughter; then sobered and disappeared completely as the door to the Healing Chamber was reached. Tucking her hands decorously into either sleeve, the thing recomposed itself to the calm and beatific Jharmeen JhinDar Qu'taro, and entered.

She paused in the doorway, surveying the room. Her eyes came to a halt on Shayla.

"Come, come, my dear; is this how we treat our guests?" she asked, her eyes then flitting over and into Jharu's, pausing there for a seeming eternity before going on their way to meet directly with the brilliant emerald green ones of Lord Phalomir.

But caution danced behind his eyes. Yes, he was brimming with joy to see her, and had it not been for the circumstances he would have rushed to her and shown her the love that struggled to burst forth. But he could feel something, something… it was vaguely familiar, yet totally alien.

But he did walk towards her, his hands out before him in an offer of an embrace. The smile on his face dimmed to a loving stare.

“Many have given much to bring you back,” he said. “And I am eternally grateful to them all. This is a most joyous day, my lady, welcome back. Even your son has returned.”

His eyes first lit up as he saw the form of his mother enter, but something within him protested. Something within him stayed the rush of his body to her side...

Phalomir's words echo'd in his ears at this moment...
we suspect your mother has a darkness within her

What did that mean? What had happened to her? He could feel something was not completely right... She was different... But she was still his mother...that much he was certain of...

It is said, that the faith of a child, trancends all things. That the innocence of youth can do things which no one who has had years of experience can manage to do...For experience hardens you, breeds into you fear...tempers into you a caution that is hard to shake...

Jharu was however...still possessing of the innocence of youth...still possessing the unstopable faith of a child. And while he knew not what had happened to his mother, he knew not what this "darkness" that was supposedly in her was, and what it was capable of...But he wanted to help his mother...Wanted to be by her side...

And so with a breath, he made a choice, and walked towards his mother, letting down all his defenses, letting the coil in his muscles relax, letting his mind open, as best he knew how...Letting that innocent smile return to his features he strode towards her, defensless...With the faith of a child, who's earliest and strongest memory was the warmth and love of his mother...

He would come to her, and embrace her. And should anyone stop him, he would shrug them off...and were he flung away, he would come again untill he could not come any more...She was his mother, and were it to be all he could do...he would come to her. For he loved her, and always would.

Her manner remained completely calm, her eyes a brilliant violet.

"My dear, dear son!" she murmured, now taking a step toward him in turn, enclosing him in the warmth of her arms, burying her face against his shoulder, for he had grown tall.

And only then, when her face was completely hidden from the sight of the others, when she was absolutely certain no one could see, no one could sense, not even That Other Part of Itself in the Other... did she let a whisper of the black seep quickly into her eyes.

Her lip curled in an expectant smile then, and again the oil was banked, camouflaged; she pressed herself more strongly into her son, letting the Link between them strengthen, bond more tightly...

...to let an insidious bit of itself creep along it, unnoticed, to curl up in the very depths of his being and wait, a tiny, tiny seed waiting to sprout.

She pulled back from him a little, turned her other cheek against the brilliance of his robes, purposely let her smile soften.

"How I have missed you, my dear son," she murmured further.

"And your father."

An eye peeped open, pinned Phalomir with a steady look; then closed as with a sigh she seemed to content herself with this long-awaited reunion, blood to blood.

But she was merely waiting: waiting to see who would say what, who would react how, what the Other would do.

And now She was there too. He'd only seen her once; back when she had allowed him to speak with Terrin regarding giving an unconscious Galen to a couple of Sith. Still, he remembered very much what she looked like with that thing on her head.

...at least, mostly. She considered Graysith's words, cocking her head a bit to the side, struggling with the Darkness for a moment.

"They spoke of destruction," she said evenly, flatly. "But it is unfortunate that those who should not be involved are," she commented almost offhandedly then, her greeny-blues shifting to Aaron and Yoaksi, finding a resting place in the widening eyes of the latter.

"Let me assist you with your friend's injuries," she said then, her tone lightening, as though she hadn't a thing to do with their arrival upon Aaron's person.

She moved to do just that, stepping closer and closer to the injured man and his companion, leaving Graysith and Jharu and Lord Phalomir to their own little unfolding drama as she did so.

I whirled, crouched, stared her straight in the eye.

She's not got all her engines in alignment!

That realization burst across my thoughts even as my empty hand yanked up, invisible blaster trained right between her shiny, greeny-blues.

"You j-just stay right where you are, Sister!" I growled, surprised to find that I had the ability to speak up to her.

"They spoke of destruction..." then "Let me assist..."

Both statements caused a momentary frown to flicker, unnoticed by all, across her features. For while the former statement clearly explained the rash action implemented by That Part of Itself in the Other, the latter only negated that action, and thus the reason for it, entirely.

The sheer contrariness of it all would certainly prove nothing other than to put each and every one of their purported guests on red alert; indeed, the one human, brave if foolish soul that he was, had already plucked up the courage to address this, however obliquely.

The frown deepened, then disappeared from her face as once more she turned it into the warmth of Jharu's body...

To think.

...and then vanished entirely. "Very well then," she responded in almost a whisper, "If that is what you wish..."

Trailing, she stepped back then to return her attention to Graysith, Phalomir and Jharu.

It was the white-furred Ryn, tugging the small human female along with her.

The Sith stopped in her tracks, bent down somewhat, for she could no more crouch or kneel at that moment than she could fly, and extended her arms to them, capturing them in a warm and concerned embrace even as they smacked against her and proceeded to seem to try and bury themselves in her skirts.

“Long overdue reunions are in abundance today,” he said. “Perhaps I should call for a crew to begin a cleanup in here, Shayla was a bit overzealous. But I do not blame her, for she was taken off guard by words from Thoran. He seems convinced of something strange, and I would advise he be placed under guard for the time being, my love. And these humans are here in search of your sister, they probably need some healing.”

But it could not. The Links were not there, having been severed at one point by the Dark Lady of the Sith.

It growled to Itself, ignoring the fact that not only was it indeed itself which had implemented this, but that it had then completely overlooked that fact, so heady had been the rush of what it thought was another battle won in the war it was fomenting.

It blamed Her instead, vowing Her pitiful body wouldn't have even a spirit to find peace when it was finished with it.

The Graysith-thing pressed harder against Jharu, seeming to ignore Phalomir as it sent more of Itself into the boy, heated retaliation against its inability to infect the towering Phalomir.

Remaining silent, unmoving, it simply proceeded to wait, to quietly observe...

...and to judge.

He stepped forward and reached for Jharmeen’s check, and turned her head to face him.

"For-forgive me," she stammered gracefully. "For I was lost in the joy of having my son once more in my arms; you are returned as well, my Lord.

"This is pleasing to me as well."

Now she let her arms twine lithely about his neck, holding him close in turn for a brief moment before letting him loose.

"You speak words of truth; as I recall, Thoran was ever a thorn in your side. Perhaps it would augur us well to keep him under a more careful scrutiny than he already is."

Now turning away she moved to one of the Healers, who was beginning to finally stir. Helping him to his feet, she waved away the Healer's immediate reaction, which was to show respect and honor to her station, and indicated such to him.

"And see that those who are injured have their ills speedily met."

She waved one hand about, following that with her eyes, which then swept full circle to come to a halt directly in Shayla's widened pair.

The elresar at his side did, however, scream in protest...it pulsated and demanded the boy's attention... It had sensed the alien link enter into the boy's soul... But the boy was not focused on his sword, and the quiet voice was silenced and given no heed, and as was the swords way, no sooner had the boy silenced its thought then did the thought leave it.

Sobbing Thea tried to answer the Lady's question. "It's her. It's Shayla. She attacked the Healing Chamber. I saw her. I felt... she used so much power... I could feel the Force screaming through it all. No one should even think about using the Dark Side, much less so much of it. I don't... how could anyone live through that kind of attack. Are you well enough to go in there and get Yaoksi and Aaron out? Neither one of them can fight her. Only a real Jedi would stand a chance. And is there a place we can hide? She'll be able to sense that I'm here. We were linked, once."

...but then, a somewhat logical portion of It rose up to point out something darkly obvious. So she banked her initial feelings, allowing her widening eyes to then soften a bit, bowing her head slightly as she then spoke.

"My apologies for my actions," she stated then simply, at length looking upward to meet Graysith's steady gaze. She then turned to nod humbly to Lord Phalomir before her eyes returned to the violet pair before her...

Phalomir opened his eyes and immediately averted them, and stared at Shayla for a few seconds as she spoke her apology. Again he reminded himself that this was still Shayla, still Jharmeen, and whatever was going on could be stopped.

He hoped.

No, he was confident.

He sighed, long and breathy.

“I would hope so,” he said flatly.

“I am anxious to hear of your adventures,” he said, turning to Jharmeen. “And to hear of what you plan next. I also would like to call together the triad, and bring Lord Aelvedaar together with us soon to discuss a matter that is making itself urgent. May we speak, please, my lady? All of us, of course, Shayla and ShaRhylla included.”

Jharu Didnt like the silence...it echoed within him like the wilted flowers of a giant field, durring the cold storms of winter.

The boy took an instinctive step back from the silence, as his gaze drifted from person to person taking in each, and considering...He was not sure what would happen between them all...he hoped everything would work ou-

There was a momentary wince within him as something seemed to crack deep within...and then there was nothing...

The boy shook his head and returned to his thoughts, Hoping all would work out for the best.

And from within, there was a momentary hiss, like a hatchling serpent greeting the world. Jharu's gaze drifted around but he could not identify the source of the sound...Eerie...

his hands drifted to his face momentarily and he shook his head as his words came forth, more to himself then anywhere else, though the volume he spoke them was uncertain, perhaps a mere silent whisper, or perhaps an audable noise....he was uncertain...

"perhaps I've been away to long...this reuinin seems to have worn me down...perhaps i should to lie down..."

"My dear son, of course; how insensitive of me to not see to your needs."

Letting one arm twine about the tall young man's shoulder, she motioned with her other hand to a nearby Healer, addressing her.

"See that my son is given a place to recuperate; perhaps there is yet a bed here that has not been reduced to splinters?"

A quick flick of an eye to Shayla, one just as quickly removed.

"Unless--"

She turned back to Jharu.

"Unless you would prefer your old rooms; they are ever here for you, my son, no matter how far you stray or how lengthy a time you remain away. For you are my son, and this is your home."

She cocked her head a little to one side, waiting to see what Jharu's wishes in the matter were, that she could then direct the Healer accordingly: either find a place for Jharu here within the Royal Healing Chamber, or send an underling to escort him to his own royal suites.

Feeling she had now slighted the Lord Phalomir, even though the purpose was a plausible one, she now turned back to him.

"Of course I will acquiesce to this meeting, my Lord; when and where is it you wish everyone involved to gather?"

"I believe i will retire to my rooms for a time, actauly."

“When Lord Aelvedaar arrives,” he said. “He had urgent matters to attend to… I should expect him back shortly. The ‘where’ is entirely up to you, but someplace secure and private. And of course, I welcome your second and your daughter if you so wish their presence.”

Jedi...

They had referred to themselves as that, or so whispered tales had pronounced.

Them. The Dark Ones, those Out There who had come, forcing the Armorers to depart from the homeland they had commanded for generations to the relative safety of Khar Delba.

Where they had gone from there, what had next occurred; these were mysteries that seemed to settle like mist into the fog of Time, for none other had come to threaten their sister worlds.

Only now this young human girl was speaking their name to her...

Jedi...

She raised upright, still letting one hand hold Thea's shoulder, and stared down the corridor which led toward the Healing Chamber.

"I shall find a place where you may remain, safe from all," she finally said. Then sweeping the pair beneath her arms, the long silken sleeves of her servant's robes falling like angel's wings all around them, she led them off to her rooms in the Servant's Quarters. Being an Elder, she was privileged to have private ones.

"Now, my children," she said, smiling as she ushered them into her plain but comfortable little apartment.

"Remain here; no one shall bother you, you are quite safe. I shall inform a lesser servant that you are here; if you need anything, she shall be standing at the door, ready to get it for you."

She turned to go, then paused.

"Remember, remain here."

"Of course your original rooms are prepared for you, my Lord," she replied smoothly, her face pale and calm and utterly devoid of emotion.

"Servants remain poised for you to command; when Lord Aelvedaar arrives I will contact you that this meeting may then be initiated."

Waiting until she was sure the lady couldn't hear, Thea took Link's hand and whispered to her, "I think she knows more than she lets on. Something in her changed when I told her about Shayla. Like she knows who she is or... Maybe she knows what a Sith can do. I... I didn't sense any Force sensitivity in her - but I know I don't know enough about it to be able to just trust my own judgment about that. I don't know what to do now Link. Are we really safe? Can Yaoksi and Aaron find us when they can get out of there? Do we have anyway of letting them know where we are without going through these creatures?"

Thea was right, the sith had the look of one who knew they had the better hand, but not yet wanting to revel it so the pot would sweaten a bit more.

"She does know more then what shes telling us. Something changed in her from before, I don't know what. Perhapse she didn't know about who we are. They certianly didn't know who or what I am. Maybe they thought we where servents of Thoran or something. I don't know but something has changed."

We need to get to the others but if these people are after us then how can we get to Aaron and Yaoksi. Correction their after us, I reached into my vest and pulled out my data pad and entered a sequence of commands. Then handed it to Thea along with a com link.

"As far as I can tell they're after you not me. So here's te plan I'll go get Yaoksi we come back here get you then we steal a ship and leave. One of the safties I build into this data pad was a self destruct incase I was about to get caught, it is the equivalent of a small thermal detonator. All you have to do is hit the accept command then you have three seconds to get rid of it. When I get back with Yaoksi I'll buzz the comm link, if someone tries to open the door before I buzz the comm then throw the data pad at them and if all else fails use the vibro blade. Any questions."

“It appears I shall be staying here in the Temple,” he said. “Remember what I have said, Shayla, no one shall harm Jharmeen as long as I have breath to live.”

He looked for ShaRhylla, and nodded at her as well.

“I only ask for a small amount of trust from you,” he said. “A chance to show you my words are true.”

With that, he walked to the other side of the room, where people were lying about and moving slowly in the wreckage of the healing chamber. He placed a hand on Thoran’s neck to check his pulse and looked at the two humans nearby. He glanced up at the one standing and staring at Shayla.

“You are friends of Galen and Terrin?” he asked, taking his mind off of the two unpleasant tasks he felt he would need to soon perform.

We don't need your help! a little voice oiled up from within to cry.

Smoothing over any evidence of that thought, however, Shayla responded with an even, "Yes, no harm will come to her."

She paused, surveying the damage she had done as though there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. "I will retire to my chambers now."

Saying not another word then, Shayla Petrolu turned on her heel and smoothly exited the Royal Healing Chambers, winding through corridors until at length she entered the chambers Graysith gave her and then closed the door.

Only then did she allow the darkness which was buried deep within her to gush forth, her eyes becoming dark and oily as anger shot through her entire soul.

We need the Dark Lord not; not at all! it growled. And yet another portion of her, buried deeper yet, insisted they didn't need Lord Phalomir simply because he, like all others before him, would betray or abandon them in the end.

Floating through her chambers upon the darkness of these thoughts, Shayla began to prepare herself to rest...

But I want to remind you guys, in case you misread or forgot, there IS a Sith servant there with you...))

I cut a quick glance at the remainder of our party; my eyes came to a dead halt on the crumpled form of Thoran, who looked, well...

Dead.

"Is he going to be all right?" I called out to Phalomir, watching Blondie out of the other corner of my eye, and finally letting my muscles loosen to see her moving a bit away from the others. They loosened enough, in fact, to let me go to Aaron's bedside.

"I left the kids with a nice Sithy gramma," I said, trying to cheer him with a perky smile. That smile faded a little; up close, his wounds sure as hell didn't look much better.

"Er, maybe I should go get them?" I asked, chewing my lip before adding, "although I don't know if they'd be any better off seeing you laying there, pal."

I tossed a glance to Phalomir.

"Hey, can't you guys do something? I mean, sheesh, what a welcome; all we ask for is our friends and then leave to skedaddle, and look what happens!"

Now my eyes narrowed a bit.

"You don't seem too concerned about Blondie here, and what she did!" I muttered to the Sith Lord, even though I knew he claimed that this gal was Shayla whom everybody loved anyway...

No matter how many of us she kills or maims!

“You are in the Temple of Warriors, the capital of one Clan of the Sith. You shall be treated as guests, and you shall in turn be expected to act as such. You arrival coincided with a rather unfortunately timed reunion, let us leave it that for the time being.”

Phalomir rolled Thoran over to his belly.

“I know Terrin and Galen, but they are not here. I last saw them elsewhere, but I have been told they are currently on Dagobah with others you may know. Humans by the names of Erik Kartan, Jasyn Lancaster, Matt… something. Stanza? Erik is Shayla’s husband. She is the blonde who just left the room, she is… troubled at the moment because Erik is currently lost on Dagobah and the others are finding him. My colleague, Dark Lord Aelvedaar, has gone there to assist them. I expect them all back here within a few hours at most.”

Phalomir wrapped an arm under Thoran and stood, effortlessly lifting the stocky Sith and throwing him over his shoulder.

“I shall see to the detention of Thoran, he is not well and needs help. One of these servants standing near the door will show you both to quarters as soon as you are able to be moved. If your injuries are severe, ask to be moved to the other healing chamber. I am sorry to offer such terrible hospitality, but I am a bit rushed. I shall find you soon, and tell you more, I’m sure you have many questions.”

Phalomir turned and walked away with Thoran. He paused at ShaRhylla, who still stood in the room.

The stunning emerald shot violate eyes returned to the world as his lids opened and he stumbled into the room his mind spinning.

Quickly and quietly he slipped the sheathed sword from the sash which held his robes at his waist and lay it softly against the bed, before laying down himself.
Sleep child...vigil i shall keep

"Well, le-de-dah, buster!" I grumbled to myself before turning back to Aaron.

"I dunno about you, pal, but this ol' spacer is starting to get a ba-aa-ad feeling about all this--"

I waved my arms out to either side, perhaps over-doing it a bit. But oh well, I wanted to make double-dewback certain that my companion here followed what I was talking about.

"Suddenly we're expected to act as... guests? What the--?"

I shook my head, completely at a loss. For from my perspective that's entirely the attitude I'd come into this strange new world with to begin with; now after all the death and destruction and general brouhaha, said ruckus which our bud the Sith Lord so casually puts down as "an untimely reunion," my attitude had spun around a hearty one-eighty degrees.

I pinched my lips together, gathering up my bravado... and then let my shoulders slump.

"Yeah, the kids. I'd better go find them; they're probably having conniptions as it is, being left alone with these... people. But I didn't like the thought of you stashed away who knew where, so that's why I'm nere now."

I paused a moment, cocked my head and sent an appraising eye over his battered form.

"You well enough to walk, pal? I think we should gather our troops, and then go figure out how the heck we're going to get Thoran back with us.

"Like I said, I'm beginning to get a ba-aa-aad feeling about all this..."

"Wait. Link what do you know about the Sith? It won't do you any good to run into her and not know what she is. At least I learned about them at the Praxeum. It was one of our first lessons. Sith are Force users like Jedi, but they only use that power for personal gain and usually they use the Dark Side. There was a time when the Sith were plentiful and held the galaxy in terror. But the Jedi were able to defeat them. And they fought amoungst themselves until they were virtually wiped out. After that the remaining Sith Lord created the 'Rule of Two' there can only be two Sith, a master and an apprentice. According to Logan the apprentice would kill the master and take his place when she had learned all she could from that master. Shayla was just the apprentice when I last saw her, but that could have changed. In any rate she was a pretty strong Jedi before turning traitor. I'm sure she can use mind control. Who knows if this servant has any idea what she is doing or why. I don't know if that lady is evil, or if she is afraid to cross Shayla, or what. I couldn't imagine being forced to follow a Sith. THEY are EVIL. Even though she does know more, maybe she's trying to protect us. She thinks we're kids.

"Just remember there are only two Sith so as far as we know everyone else here may be prisoners too. Or they could be siding with the Sith. They could be trying to help, or not. Aaron and Yaoksi might be able to get more out of them. Just be careful finding them. I won't be able to hide completely from Shayla if she uses all her capabilities to find me. But she doesn't need to know you are here. Good luck."

Thea smiled weakly at her friend then pulled out the vibroblade and slid under the bed the best she could. She watched the servant carefully, in part feeling sorry for her if she was forced to the post, but in part fearing her should she turn out to be a willing ally of the Sith.

"Please," she said a bit hesitantly. "I could not help but hear you. I-- I believe you are misled, my lady."

She blinked her rose colored eyes prettily, lowering her lashes then for the fact that she had dared to contradict a guest, but continued.

"You see, I am Sith, and I know not of what you speak. I mean, my people are not as you say they are. But--"

Her eyes widened fearfully, and she gulped. While she had been a babe during the events of which she was about to speak, she had still learned of them in her schooling. The fact that her world had so close a miss to utter disaster yet unnerved her.

"What you speak of... those actions and attitudes sound more like those of the Jedi, who caused our Armorers to flee from their world and seek shelter with the Sorcerer Clan on Khar Delba."

Then she fell silent, still feeling uncomfortable for having to reprimand a guest, be it ever so mildly.

He paused as another pain sliced through him, worry clouding his eyes. "Maybe you ought to go look for the kids and Thoran without me. And what was that about Terrin and Galen on Degobah?" he queried, frowning as he went back on one hand, suspicion filling his words. "I thought Thoran said he was taking us to them, and therefore implied they were here," he commented. "Was that just me? I have a bad feeling about this too, buddy."

Frowning then, another pain shootng through him, Aaron straightened up a bit more. "Maybe if I could just get started..." he observed, falling silent then.

"I'm not saying you're in fighting form, buddy, but you sure as hell can't stay here!" I exclaimed as I hoisted him from his bed. I winced right along with him as his wobbling feet hit the stone floor, sharing in his pain.

"We gotta get you somewhere; DAMMIT! Where did that Sith fella say you could go?"

I paused a moment, trying to think. The answer remained elusive; shrugging beneath Aaron's weight, I began to help him toward the door.

"If all you need is rest, I can get you to where we're--"

And again I stopped, as succinctly and directly as if my words had snashed headfirst into a wall. For surprise, surprise; I hadn't a clue where we were supposed to be staying.

"Well... these peeps aren't supposed to harm us, right? I mean, we're supposed to act as guests, so therefore they're supposed to treat us as such.

"Aaron, lemme know if it gets too bad, but I think we should head on back to where I left the kids."

By now I had gained the door and moved out into the corridor, heading off back in the direction I had come from as fast as the weakened captain and I could travel.

Or maybe adreline was helping him forget about it, for the moment.

"Didn't that Sith guy say something about servants or healers?" he asked, ambling along very slowly with Yaoksi's much appreciated assistance. "Where the hell is everybody?"

Frowning then, partially due to this query and partially due to pain, Aaron slowed a bit more and furrowed his brow. "I really don't like..."

“You can stop pretending now,” he said. “There is no one here but us.”

Thoran’s eyes opened warily, then upon seeing Phalomir alone he smiled.

“Begin talking,” said Phalomir.

And Thoran did, a mile a minute. Pacing across the room, he told Phalomir what happened after he was imprisoned, about Tattooine and the spiders and all. He told about finding Jharmeen and Shayla on Dagobah, and watching Shayla hide Erik. He explained how he ended up on an SSD, and meeting the humans, leaving out the part about calling himself a Lord. He also explained that the Darker Realms are no longer even a possibly safe way to portal, the darkness there seemed thicker than ever, and the demon population was incredible. Something big was going to happen.

After two minutes of listening to the fast talking Thoran, Phalomir sighed again, the current situation weighing heavily upon him.

“You will need to be held in a cell for the time being,” he said. “Until I come for you.”

Phalomir, not waiting for an answer, shot forth a blast of magick at Thoran that pinned him to the wall. He slowly slid down the wall, unconscious again. Phalomir gathered him and placed him on the bed.

He walked into the hallway and called for a servant.

“The Sith on my bed is to be taken to a holding cell,” he said. “Treat him with respect but caution, he is a friend but we do not yet know his mental stability. Fetch guards and take him.”

Phalomir then proceeded down the hall, heading for the healing chamber to check on the progress, and hoping to find out where the humans were taken. He did not have to go there, however, for as a pair of servants stopped to let him pass, as he turned the corner he could hear one of them speak. He continued on, pausing when he saw them.

“My apologies for departing so soon,” he said. “Have you been shown quarters?”

For a moment it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ok, well maybe TWO pins; my heart was pounding so hard in my chest I'm certain it would drown out the sound of one.

Phalomir stepped forward and caught Aaron under the arm. He lifted and provided ample support for Aaron to stand with little effort.

“Let me take you to the Dining Hall for the time being. We can finally show you some hospitality and answer your questions.”

Phalomir began walking, then paused.

"Well... yeah, we have two kids with us. Ahh-- that is, children? You know, little ones?"

Freed from Aaron's ample burden I held a hand out about waist level, palm to the floor. I raised my brows, for Lord love a duck but I had no clue how these guys procreate. There hadn't been so much as one of these beings under the general age of adolescence that I had seen--

Maybe they keep 'em locked up somewhere away from the adults? Who knows--

"There's actually five in our party, though; don't forget about Lord Thoran."

Now what in all the known universe made me go on and blurt that out?

A small smile crossed Phalomir’s mouth, as a rare moment took him. He continued on with Aaron in tow, Yaoksi somewhat… well, stopped.

Phalomir stopped himself again and looked back, his eyes brimming with delight.

I hovered in one spot, trying to calculate the odds of me tackling this guy, freeing Aaron, finding the kids, finding our friends, and getting home in time to sit down to a nice nerf steak and a Whyrene's. Then the incongruity of it all made me shake my head at myself.

Obviously if this guy was going to have us for dinner, larvae be damned, we would have already been roasted to a nice toasty brown. Assuming they cook their food, that is.

"Uh, yeah," I repeated somewhat inanely as I let my hesitant feet start moving me again. Pretty soon I had caught up with this great and obviously powerful being; up close I had to admit that there was perhaps something about him not quite as ominous as I thought earlier. Perhaps it was the little grin he was trying to keep from his face, or the twinkle in his eye, or perhaps it was that his horns--

His HORNS!

--weren't quite as razor sharp as I had first assumed they would be. So I hastened along, doing my best to keep up with his lengthy stride, and trying to push back the increasingly uncomfortable knowledge that we were now smack dab in the middle of an entire planetful of Lord Thorans.

"S-so, you want to explain how your people have managed to keep so isolated from the rest of the galaxy that no one ever dreamed you're here?" I began, wanting to fill the echoing corridor with the warmth of conversation that would hopefully transform my unease to, if not yet outright trust, then perhaps understanding.

Like a womprat understands a sandcat is about to strike.

Lord love a duck indeed!

“The Sith,” said Phalomir as Yaoksi eventually sat, “are an ancient race. What I am about to tell you is privy information, but as you are friends with Galen, and Thoran trusts you, I shall also. We are a magical race, and a select few of us have mastered another power beyond that. It was through this power that the race has kept hidden for so long. You could say that we were just simply not here. We wished to keep to ourselves, and be left to ourselves. But we always knew that we could not maintain this forever.”

Phalomir wanted to speak of the Dark Jedi, and of the time travel, but decided that would be better as another story at another time.

“The women you saw today, the humans. The beautiful redhead is Jharmeen, the current Dark Lady of the Warrior Clan, and my love. I am Lord of the Clan of Armorers, and the Lord of the Clan of Sorcerers is Lord Aelvedaar. But the women, you noticed they are human? Jharmeen is very special, and highly skilled in this power I spoke of. Shayla, the blond, is her second in command here. The other young lady is Jharmeen’s daughter, no relation to me, I am afraid.”

Phalomir sighed.

“You arrived here at a most inconvenient moment. There is a darkness within Jharmeen, and Shayla as well. For fear of you thinking me a superstitious fool… they are both…. I don’t know what else to say, but possessed. I believe I know what it is, but I do not know how to fight it.”

Phalomir put his hand to his forehead and scratched, losing himself in thought. After a moment he looked, embarrassed.

“Forgive me, I shall call for the servants while you eat.”

Keep your wits about you, Yaoksi ol' pirate! I berated myself. For while it seemed more and more that this imposing Sith was being completely truthful to us, there was still no way of knowing for certain.

And with Thoran out of the picture, we're kinda stuck, totally reliant upon their hospitality... which could change in an instant.

So I just stayed quiet awhile, watching while Aaron settled himself as best he could, and when someone came up to ask what we wanted I ordered meat and fruit, bread and wine. The waiter, or whatever he was called, bowed and disappeared into the gloom of this room's shadowed corners; at that I turned to Phalomir.

"Well... that's just great, you know!" I opened with, shaking my head.

"Here we come through some dire and devilish place, where all these little... things rip the hell out of Aaron and hull my poor ship; and now you're saying that something similar is possessing those two ladies...

"...and that the one, though human, is some kind of leader of yours?"

I paused in growing increduality.

"How in all the Fates did that come about? I mean, no one knows of these planets--!"

I cut myself off then, as a faint memory of something Galen had mentioned back when I was transporting her and Captain Danner to where they'd needed to go.

"This lady doesn't go by some kind of hi-falutin title of Graysith, does she?"

((OOC: ok, this thread is ENTIRELY TOOOOO LONG!!! So please follow EVERYONE IN IT to where it continues, in Tears of the Rancor in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))