She pursed her lips, and gave her Noghri companion a grim look. He returned the look in kind, then hissed something in a low voice.

Having sssssomethinggg do I for youuuuu.... the sibilants rolled out between his fanged jaws like water over a fall. He slipped into the hidden aft shadows of the Sith ship, and returned with a silver object held in both paws: a lightsaber. Specifically, the lightsaber he had taken from the jedi padawan Logan Murroe back on Khar Delba. He held it out with a touch of ambivalence, as though it was something both utterly loathsome but yet the most coveted trophy one would ever wish to acquire.

Graysith cocked her brow, a slight smile playing about her lips. "Thank you, dear Nikk," she said softly as she reached out and took it into her pale hands. She rolled it around there, getting a feel for a weapon Darth Wicked had once taught her to use, but which up until now she had entirely scorned as unnecessary. For a moment she stared quietly at the weapon in her hands, then cut her eyes to the view screen. A thoughtful look crossed her features: with movements both slow and deliberate she carefully removed the Nar Khelba from the Claw affixed to her thrimm, and with smooth dexterity inserted it into the purloined lightsaber. She then ignited the weapon, stared at the shimmering green dagger of its blade as though entranced by it. At length she took in a quick inhalation of breath, and closed it up. She then attached it to the waistband of her thrimm, taking extra care to ensure it was securely fastened.

Turning her eyes back to the viewscreen, she watched as the dusty ball assumed the shape of a planet whose surface was mostly desert. Inputting the coordinates Jinn had supplied her, she then sat back and waited as the little ship homed in upon a particularly dreary and desolate area of this even drearier planet. Without making a sound of any kind, it swooped through the layers of silt-laden air in its atmosphere, at last breaking through into the troposphere on a bee-line to the surface.

In a flurry of kicked up sand, the mysterious ship finally landed, sighing and hissing a strangely discordant symphony as it out-gassed and vented itself. It finally quieted, and the hatch slid smoothly open, disgorging a short gangplank down which a gray-cloaked figure strode, a smaller but dangerously powerful companion at her side.

This strange pair reached the end of the planking, and stepped foot on the surface of Tyrene. There they remained stock still, as if waiting for something... or someone.

A sandstorm kicked around the form, and dissipated. When the sand finally calmed, and the two could see again, a barren, aged temple lay before them. Pillars crumbled, significant burial spots, as well as various portions that had been destroyed and looted. And no sense of the Dark Side could be found...

On the far side of the temple, a man sat on one of the fallen pillars. Draped in the blue cloak, his face covered in shadows his chin resting on clasped hands as he awaited his new visitors.

His figure disappeared again...and was replaced by another image. A dead Temple, laying in sandy ruins.

Come ye mighty, look on me and despair....

A sudden coldness chilled the heart of the Chosen Daughter, as a light but cold breeze suddenly lifted her hair. Her hand dropped to her waist, and instinctively clasped about the hilt of the lightsaber.

What strangeness is this? she wondered to herself, tightening her grip. What manner of being is this one, and why am I being shown this jaded and ruined temple?

No answer came to her. Only the sigh of the wind, and the light pitter of grains as it picked up the sand at her feet and played with it.

Quite suddenly,she tilted her head forward, a look of determination crossing her face, the Glyph on her forehead settling into a soft hue of indigo.

"Come, Nikk," was all she said.

Then, her step sure and steady, she set forth to see what answers she would find in that strange and not-quite vision which lay before her.

Leaning his back against the pillar, he turned his shadow coated face in the pairs direction. "You have found that which you sought. So many similiarities between the two of you. Amusing if nothing else, how you have come to resemble him." Pushing off the pillar he slowly circled the pair. "You are now a pawn in the game yourself. The light seeks to lay claim to that which you train. The price of an item has risen, curiosity has been perked and you now find yourself stuck in the middle of two engagements. A third party now entering the game to add a twist to your ever-growing tasks."

For a moment, it was all Graysith could do to contain it. Insufferable scion of enigmatic games! the words likewise flashed through her mind. With effort though, she managed to restrain the anger, and instead turned her focus upon attempting to decipher exactly what message this mysterious cloaked being was throwing at her.

The Glyph now now glowed with the same brilliant violet as her eyes, the latter which she directed steadily into the shadowed pair before her. She raised a slender hand, and with a graceful wave of it indicated the temple about her.

"I see only ruins here," she announced coolly. "And ruins I do not seek. However, I will not gain from ignoring the possibility that these ruins are that which may yet come unto me. Prophet though you may be, perhaps not all you portray is assured. Always in motion the future is; even I have my difficulties exploring it's twists and turns."

She paused for a moment, then went a bit more on the offensive.

"Why have you come to me in the manner in which you did, to invite me to this place? What am I to gain by being here, and why have you chosen to reveal these possible truths to me?"

Turning his attention back towards the pair, his cloaked face lowered lightly. "A request was made, a debt was owed, so I am here before you now. Perking the attention of a bantha with food is not a task at all. It is merely the task of figuring out what food the bantha enjoys the most."

Perking his head back up, and looking over the Noghri, "Such loyal beings. They remind me of cannon fodder. Willing to die for their cause... willing to die for that which they view as their master, and without question."

Glancing back up towards the Daughter of the Sith, his lips slightly revealed formed into a smirk. "You find yourself stuck, though not willing to admit it to those around you. Soon two forces will be pulling on both sides, tearing apart the fabric of which has been built. Security, sanctuary, all that has been built will be put to the test..." Letting his hand unfold, palm up, a holocron in hand. "The battles in which you found yourself in the middle of before... Khar Delba, the glory you had built with your fallen brethren. Don't let history repeat itself." He tossed the holocron to Graysith.

Slowly looking away, his mind drifted for but a moment, The debt has been repaid... He let his attention fall back on the pair, as he leaned against another pillar.

Slowly, she reached forth a suddenly trembling hand, and placed it upon the coldness of the cracked and crumbling stone. Oh Aelvedaar, was it like this? the agonizing words raced through her head.

Then another thought struck her, and she raised moist eyes to the hooded figure who sat still as the surrounding stone.

"You speak of two forces," she whispered. "Yet what I would bring forth would most assuredly overcome the puny Force of the Light. With but only partial control of All that is promised, I have easily shown a jedi padawan to a New Way, have swayed her from the tunnelled course of the mere Light. And when all Dark Lords unite..."

She choked off the words, anguish now overwhelming her former anger.

What Dark Lords? Who were left? Darth Atma, dead. Darth Malice... never really revealed, and Fates knew if he was still alive. Darth Desolist, once so eager to parley with her, incommunicado and quite possibly defunct as well. Her own dear Wicked long dead; Timber Saden lost as well...

...or were they yet about? Would the very act of her unification bring forth the utter destruction she now saw; was this devastation a direct result of her action... or of Aelvedaar's?

Another horrific thought staggered her. Was this due to the hand of the Sith themselves, resurrected by her eager naivety and blind loyalty to the one whom she had already brought forth?

For a long moment she remained statue-still, letting the cold wind blow into her very soul. It found a companion in the icy knot slowly crystallizing there.

Slowly she raised the holocron.

"Tell me what I am to do."

Jumping back, and resting lightly upon the pillar again, he brought his hands to rest afront of him, two strung puppets in hand. One draped in black, the other in white. "Being compelled, and controlled by that out of their control. Do not underestimate the rays of Light, for it will be the death of you. So many fallen, merely by underestimating the opposition..." The strings to the dark puppet burned, dropping the dark puppet to the ground, as it walked behind the pillar. "Do not let anything control your actions. He let his emotions get the best of him, and he failed. Do not let history repeat itself." The puppet in white emitted a blinding white light. When the light dissipated, the puppet was gone. "The information has been given, make of it, and do with it as you see fit, Graysith."

He HAD loved her....

...before carefully tucking it away, forever hidden in the darkest corners of her being.

Then she straightened, cocking her head to one side as the bright joy in her eyes was swiftly replaced with a look of puzzlement.

With her by his side He had failed, and the Temple was in ruins...?

Impossible! She had left that very Temple to come to this place; had left her Adept behind to guard it against all ill. How could this be--?

She froze, another idea flashing into possibility. Another timeline, another dimension...

Is this what had happened in another place? Another time? And with the input from her own hand?!? But why? How?

Another flash: emotions. Again, this enigmatic being had made mention of them. The Dark Users basked in the power and strength afforded by emotions unbridled; the Jedi forced theirs into submission, living out their bland lives for the good of everyone but themselves. And she, under the tutelage of Aelvedaar, she...

...she accepted hers, both the good and the evil, the light and the dark. Balanced them within, to act from either side depending upon the situation. Yet if what this being indicated was true, how could she act in the manner true to her being, to her very essence, to her heart... how to not let those emotions guide her one way or another, and thus find sanctuary in the strength and power to fend off all others and prevent this disaster from occurring once again?

She shuddered, realizing quite suddenly how she may have indeed begun to underestimate the Jedi. How she had taken for granted the power of the All, which Aelvedaar had shown to be so effective time and time again. That All she still believed in, still trusted. Yet there must be another way, there simply had to be another means of using it more effectively.

More correctly.

The words she spoke were scarcely above a whisper, her pale hands hanging limply at her sides. "I would not have this happen, nor would I be a part of this destruction. I would avenge...HIM, I- I would make right how HE has wronged.

"Yet I am, for once, at a loss. How may I use this information, and gain from it, and learn from it as well if there is no teacher from which I may gain this mastery?

"And how can you ask me to now utterly destroy that feeling I have in my heart, one I have yearned for, and finally have found? How?"

Floating above them, clipping his heels to a stop atop a still standing pillar he looked down to her. "The possibilites of the future are endless. One word, can alter time forever. You must be mindful of your decisions. Taking the toy from the path of light, opening her eyes to the Darkness which so comforts you, altered time as it once would have been forever. No matter how significant, or insignificant is determined by the actions to follow.

"A rock, dropped square in the center of a pool of water. The rock does not disturb the water, nor anything surrounding. The ripples created from the rock are what alter the present state of the body of water."

Dropping from the pillar, he walked towards the fallen pillar once more, seating himself atop it. "A ripple in the Force is neither significant or otherwise. What others make of it, are what bring significance to the event.

"Your decisions, choices, and actions will alter the current state of power. Conflicts are arising, and growing rapidly and cannot be stopped by you alone. Two forces are in motion, working against you. Both for different reasons, but both because of the actions you have brought forth."

What he was so darkly hinting at... it couldn't be true, it just impossibly could NOT be true...

...could it?

Graysith's hands coiled into twin fists at her sides as with deathlike certainty she thought she found the true foundation of the mystery in this being's words. Or at least one small kernal, the acknowledgement thereof hitting her with the force of an SSD running out of control.

Indeed, ripples were flowing out within the Force, whether it was the dark or light or entirety of the unified forces themselves. And she herself had thrown in the rock that created those ripples, by having the effrontery to believe herself knowledgable enough to take One from the light... and try to alter her views.

Which she, in fact, had actually done.

But One who still bore overwhelming love in her heart for a man called Erik, one who in all probability when the time came would turn from her Teacher and go forth once more, taking that knowledge gained away from the Sith stronghold and, albeit unintentionally, bringing it out under the scrutiny of the Jedi.

Or... merely by the fact that she HAD altered Shayla's views would set the Jedi down a road toward Shayla's perceived salvation, which eventually might lead to the destruction before her now.

Either way, tipping the scales yet again.

As Darth Wicked had done with her so long ago, she had taken a young pupil... and he, somehow because he had taken her, had failed to fulfill the destiny laid out before him.

WHY?

The question was smoothly answered:

Because you created a returning emotion of Light in Him, one he could not accept because of the very being who He was. Yet he struggled with it... and it led not only to his eventual insanity, but to his failure and ultimate death as well.

It was because of you....

No sooner had those damning words coalesced in her brain then she shied nervously away from them, her thoughts escaping to the relative harmless enigma of the Temple. This... this was? This, she had been part of? When? How?

Who was she?

She shook her head, fighting against the weight of the conundrums which had crashed down upon her this day, nearly falling to her knees under the discordant clashes of conflicting time and memory. A cold sweat broke out upon her body, dampening her hair and dulling the glow of the sigil on her forehead. She raised her hands, placing them on either side of her brow, her fingers gripping the tendrils of her hair, unconsciously gritting her teeth as she focused every iota of concentration she possessed, straining to assimilate all that the Prophet was revealing to her.

Hovering in the background, Nikk whined in actual fear.

She ignored him, the slimmest specter of cool logic now slowly rising up and beginning to quest about, sensing, seeking an answer to the unknowns presented here like some persistent Nek on the hunt. It slyly presented a course of action to her, but one that she immediately shied away from, unwilling to accept that as being the only way she could turn. Recoiling before her hesitation, it then prodded elsewere, at length crashing into a short statement the Krath Prophet had uttered:

Conflicts are arising, and growing rapidly and cannot be stopped by you alone. Two forces are in motion, working against you. Both for different reasons, but both because of the actions you have brought forth.

Conflicts indeed. Those not only without, but within as well.

Emotions. Not to glorify them, not to suppress them. Perhaps... not even to accept and balance them.

But perhaps, to succeed... would it be at the cost of utterly eliminating them? Before they created a concentric flow of ripples of whirlpool proportions, which instead would eliminate her with the same ease as they did Darth Wicked?

NO. She was no mere Dark User. She was the Chosen Daughter of the Ancient Sith, who had been specifically selected and given the potential to not merely use both the Dark and the Light, but to unite them. The way before her was clear. This strange game played by this mysterious being would not sway her from the destiny handed to her in her very creation.

She firmed at the thought and regally raised her eyes to his, finally finding her voice once again.

"Can you reveal to me the two forces of which you speak? And are there any who would assist me in the trials which lay ahead regarding them?" she whispered coolly; then, in a voice which held something of a smirk of her own...

"And what of the Sith Sorcerer, Aelvedaar? Can I continue to trust that which he does?"

In mimickry of one of the string-cut puppets just shown to her, she sank to her knees and slumped forward. But then her head shot upright, the Glyph ravening out in ultraviolet splendor. With every suddenly mocking aspect of her being she strove to show this trickster just how unafraid she was to receive his answer.

Turning on heel, leaving his back to the two, he began to walk away. "Three forces shall collide, for varying reasons. The allies beside you are that which you request..." as if from nowhere, an apple fell from the sky, landing in the open palm of the Krath Prophet. "An ally will not fall from the sky, you must request the presence, or fall short. Remember, hesitation leads to dissapointment. Being shot down is the least of your worries."

Then she exploded, the Glyph flaring.

"How dare you!" the words came out with all the indomitable force of a supernova. "How dare you come to me, lead me here, spout such intolerably mystic nonsense and then walk away from me in this manner!"

She drew herself up, her hood falling back from her face to reveal the flaming mass that was her hair, her one hand instinctively bypassing the hilt of the lightsaber at her waist to grip instead the Claw of S'slan upon her thrimm. With smooth grimness, she placed it on her finger, although she did not yet bring that weapon to bear.

The Prophet merely kept his back to her, continuing to move off as if her heated words were merely the sighing of a spring zephyr. She paid his apparent retreat no heed, but continued to rage.

"I AM THE CHOSEN DAUGHTER OF THE SITH!" she proclaimed herself to him. "I fear no Light Jedi; their powers are as water before the strength of the Unifying All that is at my command! And no matter what strange oxymoronic blatherings come from your lips, I fear you not as well! The visions you show me are false ones, Prophet! The words you speak are meaningless to me!

"Unless..." she paused a moment, watching the movements of the cryptic and cloaked being. He still continued to walk, but his step had slowed.

She flung her final challenge into the void his step had produced.

"Unless you would stand by at least one statement you have uttered. You claim I must not hesitate, that my allies of choice are to be thus at my request.

"So be it. If allies there are, and if you are their mouthpiece, than take this as my formal request that they come and assist me in my quest of unifying what Dark Users there may be in this Galaxy. And if you be such an entity yourself, then I hereby request your assistance as well, oh mystic Sage!"

The Holocron. Jedi instrument that it was, it was radiating with a shimmering heat. The mysterious writing on the six sides of the cube however, were contrarily glowing with a cool blue effulgence, as though seeking her attention and with quietly insistent compulsion bidding her to activate it.

Blinking a bit in surprise, she put out a curious finger, and lightly touched one of the writings. The cube immediately responded to that Light portion which it sensed in her essence. In the space of a nanosecond a hologramic beam shot out. Reduced in size but scarcely in import, an image began to play out upon the sand in front of where she was kneeling.

Spacetime is indeed the most fragile of substances in the universe. Indeed, what this Prophet spoke of was more profound than she had first realized. Events can be altered with a single word, a unique moment, a nexus from which one pathway into the future can be segued into another completely different direction.

If one had the Knowledge and capability to do so.

There before her lay... literally, herself. That day, so long ago, within the walls of the very Temple where she recently had left Shayla, she herself now lay before the imposing image of a Dark Lord of the Sith, humiliated and branded.

Atma.

He moved toward her, raising his hideous sword to deliver a coupe d'grace... and was stopped by the sudden appearance of another Darth. Wicked. Her Lord and only Dark Heart to herself.

The two seemed to quarrel together. Then they turned to depart, leaving her upon the cold stones like some discarded bone. At the doorway, they parted company, but there Wicked paused. The look he bestowed upon her spoke volumes... and yet was entirely indecipherable by her. At length he made a motion with his hand, and at his bidding she rose to her feet. Silently she trailed after him into the depths of the Temple, and into yet another destiny.

Smooth segue into other imagery. Two Lords, with her standing just slightly behind them, confronting another Darth. Rapid forward play... the arrival of yet another, and another. Although not shown in the holographic image, the sense of mighty and powerful fleets, hovering in black and unseen menace, could not be denied. Then...

Attack. Some squabble. Wicked and Atma, facing squarely off. A horrific battle ensued... a victorious Wicked watching Atma depart in the same humiliated defeat he had placed upon the Chosen Daughter. Wicked now turning to her, reaching out, removing the burning Brand upon her throat, positioning her at his side.

Another image. Another attack. This one, the Final Battle. The forces of the Light, in a pre-emptive attack upon the Temple, attacking the Sith Lords so carefully gathered there. Unbelievable death. Heartbreaking destruction. In the end, the ruins of wondrous Sith splendor, and two lone figures standing silently amidst them.

She and Darth Wicked.

He turns to her now, the look in his turquoise eye wild. Accusing. His hand raised... yet the blow withheld. Turning, he flees... leaving her alone with her own desolation.

Now, overshadowing all, eyes stern with volcanic fires, his horned demeanor the outcry of despair, comes another... the Holocron images darken into shadow, refusing now to reveal mysterious happenings, entirely unable to grasp them for display.

Something is tweaked....

A sudden segue back... yet somehow, incredibly forward... to the Temple, to her laying in humiliated defeat, ignored by the retreating Atma... the sudden appearance of the Ancient Sith Sorcerer, who stares down at her for a silent length of time before reaching a hand to her. Raising her up, removing the brand. Commanding powerful magicks with deceptive ease, a wave of one clawed hand totally restores the Temple to its former beauty. The other hand touches her forehead for a long moment. Taking away all rememberance of this hideous chain of events as in parting he effortlessly incises this particular cancer from the body of galactic events. Then gathering her into the protective folds of his cloak, he carries her off with him... away...

...into a continuing future where the possibilites yet remained endless.

Graysith shivered at what the learning cube had revealed to her, then slowly raised her eyes to the back of the retreating Prophet. For a moment she wavered...

...then firmed.

Not this time. No failure. Not again. She would most definitely see to that.

Silently she rose to her feet, and quietly waited to hear how this Krath would respond to her request.

At first the mist completely engulfed the cube vortexing its way around the object like a huricane until it began to part. Slowly a the back of a hooded black cloak began to come into view. The chill began to grip the air around her as the Dark Lord slowly began to turn the shadows dancing around to protect his identity. After what seemed to be hours he opened his eyes to peirce the darkness with the glow of a Tatooine serpent. One look into his eye's and there could be no doubt a new Sith Lord had heard her request.

She had just been in the process of uttering a final call to the departing Krath Prophet when her vision was abruptly filled with oil-shot blackness striped with a diffuse glow that seemed to issue straight from hell. At her side the Holocron was once again ravening into glaciated life... but she ignored it completely.

All she had eyes for was the darkly intimidating figure who had so mysteriously and magickally appeared before her. His dominating presence blanked out the nearby surroundings, completely overshadowing and masking the Krath Prophet himself... if indeed that mysterious personage was still there. The power oozing from his menacing presence could not be denied, as neither could the intensity of the scintillating look he shot directly into Graysith's violet eyes. It arrowed through her into her very soul, therein awakening the joyously slavering and yowling Beast which yet resided, hidden to all, within her very essence. It rose up within her in glorious response to the promise she thought she saw in that gaze, its claws extended in ready appropriation of the victory it so suddenly and assuredly was beginning to sense.

Graysith's eyes flashed in syncopation with the Glyph on her forehead. But she remained frozen, partly in respect for the Power that she sensed, and partially to show that she herself offerred no threat to this new yet welcomed being. She remained utterly silent and unmoving for the space of a heartbeat; then, her movement smoothly acknowledging she slowly and ever so slightly inclined the upper part of her body in the direction of this Dark Lord of the Sith. When she straightened, it was with a soft yet piercing whisper.

"I am Graysith, the Chosen Daughter of the Sith." she said succinctly. Then she quieted, waiting to hear how he would reply, wondering if when the masking veil he exuded finally dissipated she would find the Krath Prophet to be as nonexistent as her earlier fears of a destiny going unfulfilled.

Around them the cold wind moaned, as if to reveal a bleak and barren destiny of its own. The Holocron glowed....

She intreeged him as a victim intreeged its prey. She was powerful there was no doubt about that. The Dark Side was as stronge in this one as it was in him, it was the only way that he could have been awakened. He searched her trying to rape her of her most wicked thoughts and desires. He wanted to stir up any wonton desires she had tried to hide deep within her soul.

Should he join her he thought.... or should he destroy her. These thoughts brought a deep smile to his Sith features revealing black as night teeth and what appeared to be fang like protrusions. I will toy with these thoughts until I am ready he thought. She is pleasing to the eye.....very pleasing indeed, but it was her dark sith soul that drew the greatest interest. That deeply dark Sith soul that rose up to caress his equally dark soul.

Fully aware of the import of the look he raked her with, as well as what was going through his mind, she neither hesitated nor let one speck of her awareness show in either her features or her entire demeanor. She merely gave Roan a mysterious little smile, her eyes appraising him coolly.

"I seek what all sentient beings seek," she responded lightly. "And that is my destiny. One which is perhaps a touch... complicated."

She paused and glanced briefly around. The only objects in sight were the grimly forboding desert, the gloomy ruins... and this powerful Dark Lord of the Sith. The Krath Prophet had entirely disappeared.

She waved one slim hand in a languid motion, taking in the dreary surroundings about them.

"But here is not a fitting place to discuss such things," she continued smoothly. "I have at my disposal a Temple--"

For a brief moment she cut herself off, her long flaming hair tumbling down as in suddenly tilting her head to the side her hood fell back, fully revealing her face to the Sith Lord. She heeded him not, but froze again as though... listening.

For the space of a heartbeat she remained in that stance, then jerked herself back to the reality about her. Now her luminous violet eyes closed as she tilted her head briefly in the direction of the Sith.

"You must forgive the interruption, Dark One," she apologized. "There are affairs elsewhere which demanded my attention, and which now demand my return to the Temple I had only begun to introduce to you. But if your interest is gained, I would speak more with you of the destiny which lies ahead of me.

"Perhaps you will deign to grace me with your dark presence at the great Sith Temple on Khar Delba?"

His eyes opened once more dismissing the thoughts that began to stir within is evil heart and again looked upon this chosen daughter. He felt the light side of the force in her as well that she tried to balance along with what he felt was her true calling. He remembered back to a time when he was a child, they had tried to show him the light as well. He had learned what he needed and it was still there deep within like a slowly burning ember that would not go out no matter how much darkness he commanded. The Sith was his true mistress and he reveled in it knowing all, seeing all, wanting all...

Slowly his long clawed hands reached up to remove his hood revealing his face for the first time in ages. What Graysith saw was pue darkness. A deeply huen purple with black serpentine markes running almost charasmatically accross his face. Dark black horns protuding proudly from atop their masters head. Deep purple lips that showed dark black teeth and fangs as he showed a small devilish grin. This was truely the essence of the Sith.

"I know of your Temple daughter," he hissed, "I have watched you for some time now. I will meet you there"

Thje majority of the others falling short by the very expression of their blatant humanity, designating them as being merely the Dark Jedi who thought they were Sith. All, of course, with the exception of the genuine Ancient Sith who yet remained hidden away from the eyes and ears of the present. And one other...

But this One....

She firmed, then bowed her head in brief acknowledgement of his words.

"Very well, oh Nameless One," she couldn't help the little taunt. If this one was to assist her, dark soul or no, there had to be at least a modicum of trust between them. We shall see if this develops or not. But not here.

"I shall await your arrival at the Temple on Khar Delba."

With no other explanation or words of dismissal, she reached up to replace the hood that had fallen back. Then, a darkly muttering Nikk at her side, she turned abruptly and began walking back to her ship.

She didn't look back once.

Nikk, still growling to himself, did... and several times. Though recognizing and understanding the dark strength of the being who yet stood behind them, he wasn't at all pleased with this turn of events. It was his blood-sworn duty to protect the Chosen Daughter from all harm... and somehow he couldn't help but feel that leaving That One standing, so silently unmolested, was a grave and possibly lethal mistake....

As a sandstorm kicked up around him, his grin wavered to a smirk, "To the Temple, a surveyor once more. As always, the shadows bring comfort. Shadows... so comforting..." As if from nowhere, a solid black TIE Phantom wavered, and then completely appeared afront of him. Boarding the ship, without so much as a second notice, was gone.

He reached up once again with his clawed hand to return the hood atop his horned head.
Unnamed one... the Sith seemed to laugh and dance around him at her words uttered such a short time ago. Soon my pet you will know your masters name and you will speak it with all respect due to a Dark Lord of the Sith. You will scream it only to wisper it like a dark lovers kiss.

"Soon two forces will be pulling on both sides, tearing apart the fabric of which has been built. Security, sanctuary, all that has been built will be put to the test..."

How well she remembered the Krath Prophet's mysterious words; how enigmatic they had been to her at the time. And yet still were.

"Being compelled, and controlled by that out of their control. Do not underestimate the rays of Light, for it will be the death of you. So many fallen, merely by underestimating the opposition...."

Who was the opposition so darkly hinted at by this mysterious personage? Who was coming... and at the behest of who? Who would fall? The Sith, yet again? For one flaring moment she wished with all her heart to reach out with the strengths given to her by Aelvedaar, to turn back the clock... to step back to that day so long ago when all was so simply laid before her, back to the day she had come to Darth Wicked, strong in her self-assurance, replete in the role she thought she had to play... back to when black was black and white was white, and she had not yet truly begun to find the myriad shades of gray destined to become her signature....

"Do not let anything control your actions. He let his emotions get the best of him, and he failed. Do not let history repeat itself...."

Now she closed her eyes, allowing a single tear to trace a silvery path down her cheek. Light and dark, love and hate, all balanced in the All for the good of all that is... yet what good is love if at the cost of pain? What good is hate if at the cost of pity? What good is feeling if at the cost of cool logic... of comprehension and analysis... and what good were they if not acknowledged by others?

Slowly then, rising in crescendo, a series of tremors began wracking her body. The Glyph on her forehead flared into shorter and shorter frequencies as the Beast within reared its slavering head and let forth a great yowl of anguish as a final memory came ripping into her.

"He did love you, as much as his dark heart could. I can assure you his final thoughts were of you...."

DID.

Now her eyes flew open, only to gaze without seeing into the dimly lit shadows of the ruins about her. All her focus was on the one word: did; she shuddered as the memory of the Krath Prophet's utterings joined forces with events which had occurred so recently and so unexpectedly.

Did. Past tense. Krath Prophets spoke in mysteries, hidden as they were just beneath the surface of the Galaxy they existed as nothing more than a puzzlement, a whisper, a quandary... but always when they appeared they spoke the truth.

Did.

The one small word grew in omnipotent proportions in her mind, in her heart, mocking her with the assurety that yes, that indeed had been what the Krath Prophet had spoken. Did. A simple word... but one with such a terrible inherent meaning.

Who in reality was Roan? Who was this Maladius he had brought with him from out of seeming nowhere? Why had the demon been at his side? Was he indeed the "original" Wicked as she had come to believe; that Wicked had indeed been a clone she had absolutely no doubt, but had Roan indeed been the template for that clone?

If not, who was he? Why had he come, and how had he managed to deceive her so easily? Where had he gone; strange how he had disappeared so quickly on the heels of Maladius traitorous action. But more disconcertingly:

If he was not the Sith she thought he was, the one to unite with, had that one actually been Wicked after all? The true Wicked, met with but only twice... but such a lifetime had evolved in those two bitterly sweet meetings. Had that child between them actually been the one to fulfill the ancient destiny, that innocent child murdered by the action of her sister? Was this new child then, the one between she and Roan, in reality NOT the one destined to bring forth the Sith? Yet why was she valued so highly that she had to be implanted into the body of her sister, away from the barest possibility that harm would come to her mother by those who spoke for the Light?

And finally: if indeed Roan wasn't who he had said he was... why then had he been accepted so easily by Aelvedaar? The Chosen Daughter could easily see how she could be deceived by those with far greater powers than she, but that a Sith Sorcerer would be deceived in a similar manner... it was beyond probability. Her Sire had welcomed Roan as brother, had explained the relationship between he and Roan and Rean. Had assured her of her importance to his designs, and of the importance of her child to the future of the Sith.

But was it indeed the Sith civilization they were speaking of? Or the Sith she had been led to believe? Were there undercurrents at play here beyond her comprehension?

All she could do was come full circle back to what the Krath Prophet had said to her: "Soon two forces will be pulling on both sides, tearing apart the fabric of which has been built...So many fallen, merely by underestimating the opposition...."