Roan lowered his turquoise gaze into Taehun's... then reached out and grasped the man by his forearm.

"I sense your desire for power, my apprentice," he purred in a silky voice, then letting his grasp loosen and Taehun's hand fall from his own. "Indeed, I have always sensed it."

He paused then, stepping out until he stood at the very brink of the rock cliff. His hair blew in the wild wind that suddenly gusted; turning a bit sideways, he indicated the distant spires of Phrinnchatka with a wave of one hand.

"There lies the fruits of the power I wield, my apprentice, power such as you have never seen before. Power which can be yours."

His head whipped about now as he looked over his shoulder, piercing Taehun's eyes with his own. His dark smile grew even darker when he saw the resultant glitter that flashed in the dark jedi's eyes.

"Aye," he whispered, now coming close and leaning down to brush his lips ever so close to Taehun's ear. "The use of this great power... that I can teach you, or can find the one to teach you." He flinched a bit, remembering his failure with his wife, then hurried smoothly on.

"There is only one thing you must do for me."

He paused, straightening. His brow lowered.

"None but a select few shall be allowed the use of this power. It is called the All; that much I shall reveal to you. We Sith have an inherent ability to learn of its use, but it is not in itself inherent to us. Thus any can learn if they are so predisposed.

"You can learn...." His voice trailed off in an enticing whisper. "But as I said, only a select few must be able to handle it. There is a child with this power inherent to her; she must not be allowed to continue without proper... instruction.

"Bring me that child... the child of Galen Danner. FIND HER... and bring her, alive, to me. Then I shall see to your own education in the All... my apprentice."

He fell quiet, his thundercloud eyes crashing over Taehun like storm-tossed waves which carve away the very land beneath one's feet.

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

"I shall carry out your will, milord. However, I do not know how to seek this child out. How will I find the child?" Taehun hesitated momentarily before speaking again. "...and your people, how will I get off of this planet, without being attacked by hordes of Sith?"

Taehun silently waited for his master's reply.

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

"The child is the spawn of Galen JhinDar Danner and the hunter, Sorben Tarnus," he said smoothly. "I... left her with the cloners on Kamino for purposes leading to the completion of what you see here before you."

He waved his clawed hand toward the distant towers, then continued.

"Of that you need know no more at this time. There will be a time later... more than enough time, my apprentice, to fill you in on the information you are missing.

"But knowing where she is will give you a place to start. Unless something has occurred... she is there. If not... then I trust you have some prowess in the art of the hunt?"

He whirled, pinning Taehun with a dark look, one which clearly read the expectations he had of him. They remained locked in a wordless stare, the wind ruffling their clothing, bringing something of a chill into their midst. And at length Roan seemed to see what he desired in in Taehun's aspect, and he nodded.

"Good," he said succinctly. "Then we understand each other. Now, come."

With that he turned and mounted his flitter, watching as Taehun did the same. He took off at a rapid speed, sending rafts of dust skirling in his wake, forcing Taehun to speed up to his side or find himself choking and coughing. As his apprentice drew abreast of him, Roan's eyes glittered even more darkly, and he made a motion to Taehun.

"Draw your cloak more closely around you, that none may see your features," he commanded him through the All. When this was accomplished, he led his adept into Ch'arlingua, and up to a lethally sleek little craft. Of alien origin and technology it was, of a race that had died out entirely 3,000 years in the past. He dismounted before it, and waved his hand toward its matte exterior, one so dull as to scarcely reflect any light at all. He nodded his head to Taehun, then strode up to the ship and slapped his hand on the hull.

A strangely shaped shadow opened up in its side, and a walkway floated from that shadow like gossamer mist.

Roan gave Taehun a meaningful stare.

"Do not fail me, Taehun," he commanded, speaking his name for the first time.

Then he turned and strode off for the tunnels, where transport waited to carry him back to his home in the Temple of the Warriors in Phrinnchatka.

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

Galen Danner...It was as if it were a name Taehun had heard a long time ago in a dream. The name seemed vaguely familiar, but Taehun could not recall a face that corresponded with the name.

As Taehun entered the ship he removed his dark cloak that had been carefully wrapped around his face, disguising his features thus far. So, he would be Lord Roan's little secret - a dark jedi to go around doing the dirty work. In all honesty, if a dark jedi was indeed capable of honesty, Taehun didn't mind his role at all. He was not a overly proud man, and was willing to give up a little dignity in order to gain power...much more power.

Slowly, the controls in the Sith craft responded to Taehun's touch. Because of the tendril link to his master, Taehun knew just how to operate this craft. The dark ship slowly lifted off, exited the hangar, and left K'eel Dolba with a sudden burst of speed.

Kamino, eh?...

((OOC: Follow the dark jedi Taehun to Kamino in the A Civilization Stirs... thread in the Complete Star Wars Universe forum. Thank you.))

[ 02-19-2003 02:28 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Taehun ]

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

Then, there, far away in the distance, a brief flicker. A light, a beacon, beckoning to her to come, come up, come out, come forth from the darkness... she clawed and scrabbled in blind obedience to that light, slicing out at the muffling darkness, yearning and climbing and striving to breach from the unthinkable depths of Hell to which she had sunk....

She opened her bi-colored eyes with some effort, blinking blearily as she sought to return her thoughts to reality. Into her blinking eyes there swam another pair... a startling turquoise pair, which hovered over her, refusing to depart.

From that impossible deep there upwelled an instinctive shadow of emotion: it was the merest of flickers, but engulfed a wealth of feeling: a selfish grasping out in something which only approximated love... a sudden flood of sheer relief... an immediate and utter offering of who and what she was... complete and soul-consuming terror for what was behind those eyes....

She blinked again, and a face which was vaguely familiar washed into view. She studied it benignly, blinking away those wisps of whatever it was that had bubbled in the recesses of her being, and for a short moment wondered who those eyes belonged to.

A flash of understanding shot through her: a memory of a corridor, standing against one, then later, striving, seeking, always reaching out to go back to her....

"Father?" she queried through lips as dry as a Tatooine well. Then she frowned, wondering why there were no more memories, she was sere of them, she had no beginning, no end, she simply was and knew somehow that he was her father, and that only.

But who was she?

She turned widened eyes up into his, her fiery temperament abated for the moment, pushed into silence while she pondered the strangeness in which she found herself. Thus she lay, simply staring up into the blazing eyes of Ankrist Roan, and by her very aspect trusting him as much as she could ever trust another being, waiting.

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

Careful probing via the All had discovered the tiniest speck of ShaRhylla-essence, still lurking deep within her very being, her spirit or soul as some would call it. Though her body had been wrenched into something other by the evil actions of Entaris, and though her mind had likewise been forcibly, if oh-so insidiously, taken, there was yet something of who and what she was hiding somewhere deep within, providing her just that mote of selfness to keep alive the flickering flame of terror against her Dark Heart... and which in fact had made her repetitive and willing self-sacrifice to him all the more satisfying each and every time it had been implemented.

For to those who seek pain and yield to torture, that pain and torture must first be given measure or it is meaningless.

Once found, Roan had instantly realized that tiny, cowering speck needed help... the help of a Sorcerer. But there were none on K'eel Doba; all Roan could do was send a tendril of his own strength into his child's being, washing away all memories of the terrible events that had happened to her since she had fallen to Entaris's dark and cloying hands, supporting that bit of ShaRhylla in the process and hoping that she was of enough Sith blood to persevere.

To his great relief, she had been. And now was awakening, coming slowly back to herself, a blank slate other than that ShaRhylla-essence, which he knew could only get stronger over time.

He laid a clawed hand gently on her sweat-slicked forehead. For now, this was enough. Later, when she was stronger, she would be taught what indeed she had been through, every last detail. For Sith she was, if half-bred, and her ordeal would thus would be shown in the Library annals here in Phrinnchatka. But now--

"You are ShaRhylla Roan, child of my flesh, by the one called the Chosen Daughter of the Sith," he intoned softly, pushing her damp hair back from her forehead, his eyes gazing lovingly into hers. "Later will come more knowledge; for now, my daughter, know this: you have passed through the very depths of Hell. But as a sword passing through those flames, you have emerged the better for it, tempered and strong."

He paused, once again stroking her forehead lovingly, then stooping to kiss it softly.

"Rest now, my child," he whispered in a voice few dreamed Ankrist Roan possessed. A smile creased his sensuous lips as he watched her obey that simple command. Then he settled himself in a chair by her bed, that when she awoke it would not be alone.

[ 02-22-2003 05:08 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dark Lord Roan ]

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

Proximity alarms began their wailing bleep as Relentless prepared to come out of hyperspace, signalling for all to come to station-keeping and look alive. The old star destroyer had seen more than her share of days of battle throughout her colorful history, some ending in glory, others not; her current commander, Captain Hekios Landarian, aimed to see she found another notch in her glory belt if there was anything he could do to help it.

He turned to the Officer On Deck.

"Battle stations, and look alive," he ordered succinctly, turning to watch the forward view as the starstreaks condensed into a tiny red ball in the center of it, a ball with two even tinier white dots in orbit about it. He snorted to see the apparent tranquility of the heretofore unknown system, one currently introduced to him as:

"Khar Delba, ey?" he muttered, arching a brow. Then he snorted.

Looks peaceful enough, a couple empty planets circling an isolated and dim little sun....

"Sir!" the science officer whirled at his station, his eyes wide. "I'm picking up lifesigns, sir... a-- a great many lifesigns; in fact, Sir--"

The young lieutenant paused, his eyes wide in surprise. Then he pulled the tiny receiver from his ear, played a tune on his console, read a screen.

"Both planets are fully colonized, er-- that is, I'm reading maybe populations in the numbers of tens of billions. Sir."

He fell silent, staring at his Commander.

Populated?! Captain Landarian's proverbial jaw dropped at this unexpected announcement, but he didn't let a lick of his surprise show on his features. He simply nodded.

"Very good, Lieutenant," he said smoothly. He then called out to the communications officer. "Send data to Coruscant, and inform Lt. General Tarnus of the situation. Helm--"

He turned slightly, waiting the mere second or two for that officer to turn in his seat.

"Lay a course to six parsecs from the Khar Delban sun, standard haunt orbital in the Z-axis," he ordered, raising a calm finger to scratch his nose in thought. "Remain in keeping at that position; inform the rest of the ships to follow suit.

"We'll wait and see if we are issued any orders from HQ. But in the meantime, keep a close watch on those planets, especially if they show any signs of having space capacity."

With that he fell silent, waiting as his orders were smoothly carried out.

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

"Maintain station-keeping until I can get a backup freed to assist you," I ordered. "Remain on battle alert; the situation may be deceivingly quiet, but your circumstances are in level red danger."

I paused, frowning, then let that frown carry over into my demeanor as I creaked forward on my elbows, my hands clasped on the desk in front of me. "Secure link to Captain Landarian," I snapped, waited a few moments, then let out a sigh when his rugged features filled my screen. I interrupted his formalities with a lift of my finger.

"Captain, I cannot stress enough the danger of your current situation... nor can I stress the need that absolute top secret silence is maintained. Not one whisper of your discovery must be let loose from your ships, Captain; I tell you this just short of ordering your entire fleet destroyed to assure that silence."

Landarian's eyes widened fractionally, then he nodded in affirmation. I nodded in return.

"Good," I said. "Then we do understand each other. Maintain watch until backup arrives, and under no circumstances do anything to reveal your presence there. It is of strictest importance that your situation be strictly contained as is for as long as possible.

"Keep me informed. Tarnus out."

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

He nodded once, meaningfully.

"You heard the Lt. General," he finally broke that overwhelming silence. "Not one word of this is to leave the bridge, under penalty of death. Communications, send same intership."

He paused to let the pregnant silence following those words underscore them with more inflection and meaning than he could ever inject into them. At length there was an almost mutual rustling from the people on the bridge, as if each and every one had finally affirmed the severity of their situation into their very cells, and were calmly now waiting to see what would happen next.

Landarian nodded, a slight smile of satisfaction quirking up one corner of his mouth.

"Carry on," he said with a sharp nod of his head, then went off to his own ready room. There he accessed the ship's library and began bringing up everything and anything it might contain about the Khar Delban system and the mythos that was the ancient civilization of the Sith.

Which wasn't much, he was soon to discover, much to his dismay.

[ 02-22-2003 06:53 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by The Empire ]

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

Almost....

She awoke with a viscious start, her arms reaching out, fingers tense and coiled, claws and fangs bared as if by that one instinctive reaction she could kill the darkness trying to devour her soul.

Of course it wouldn't work... but that darkness was reduced to a more manageable level as a warm, clawed hand descended upon her, pushing her gently back again, now moving to stroke damp tendrils of her hair from her brow.

"Rest, my child. You are safe."

The voice seemed to come from far away, so very far away. ShaRhylla strained to see who it was that was speaking to her thus, but it was simply too difficult to fully breach that muffling cloud of darkness which yet held her in its thrall.

She merely closed her eyes, shuddering, and not even knowing really what it was that had provoked that physical reaction from her.

Finally she slept once more.

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

Graysith smiled a cold, little smile when Chosen One's proximity alarm began its quiet, musical chiming. Even in the otherness of hyperspace the near-magical Sith fighter was cleanly able to sense out, finding the massing Imperial ships who were hovering just outside the Khar Delban system, and warn her of them. Thus it was that she chose to fully utilize the wonderful capabilities of the little fighter to their fullest extent; reaching out, she snapped off the autopilot, but other than that did nothing.

Still in hyperspace, the ship arrowed onward, aiming for a particular mote within that side-slipped reality where it would lunge with all the certainty of a striking rancor. Graysith's smile never wavered an iota as in this manner the ship slipped entirely past the hulking giants, its cyberbiotic brain now awakening to calculate and perform the impossible:

Bringing a ship from hyperdrive within a planetary atmosphere.

It did so, cleanly, and with a minimum of fuss, slamming from velocities too unthinkable to remotely ponder to a modest couple hundred meters per second, bringing the sith fighter simultaneously into realspace and landing trajectory on K'eel Doba as easily as a leaf would fall from a tree.

Now Graysith took the controls in her hand, choosing to bring the ship into a rolling victory loop over the bustling city of Phrinnchatka. She swooped down low, buzzing it, watching with cold glee as the inhabitants walking about lifted their horned heads in surprise, wondering who she was, and why she was flying in thus a manner. Just skimming the tops of the buildings, she headed to the Ch'arlingua spaceport, for which she showed her clear disdain by buzzing it in turn.

Then she swooped up, barrel-rolled, and headed back to the city, where she brought Chosen One to a feather-light landing in the courtyard of the Great Temple of the Warriors.

The fighter had scarcely settled onto the tiles there when its hatch slid smoothly open, disgorging a slim figure draped in rune-encrypted smoke. The back of her cloak rustled and flared, as if hiding something in the richness of its folds; in this manner Graysith walked out into the courtyard and stared up toward a particular balcony... one joining a particular room, a room belonging to a particular individual.

He came out obligingly enough, his turquoise eyes widening in surprise to see her standing there below him.

Her voice was low and musical, and cut the air like a knife. The Glyph on her forehead exploded into radiance as, lifting her arm high into the air, exposed wrist revealed to him as the sleeve puddled down around her elbow, she showed the brilliant gold of her Tattoo of Entitlement.

"Hello, Ankrist," she said simply, not deigning to honor him with his title.

"I've come back."

[ 03-08-2003 03:33 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

Behind him came a small rustling from ShaRhylla's bed... following by the even quieter noise of the door into the room opening from the corridor beyond. Light footsteps padded his way; stopping as a pair of sinuous arms twined lithely about him to lay upon his bared chest, playing about there.

"What is it, my love?" Kreesha's words came into his ears; then she shifted and peered around him. Her claws dug into his chest, drawing blood.

Ankrist Roan ignored the slight pain. His own hands now gripped the stone balustrade, crumbling portions of it to bits and pieces which filtered downward to drift away upon the cool breeze coming from the city streets. Then one hand lifted slowly and with great determination grasped Kreesha's arm, yanking it from him and turning it upright.

There upon her own wrist, the Tattoo of Entitlement glowed like a tiny sun.

The hand he held clenched into a fist.

"I shall tear her lungs out her throat and have her present them to you ere she dies, my love," she growled, beginning to whirl and leave.

Roan stopped her, a returning growl lowering in his chest.

"This is impossible, yet..." he trailed, then leaned out over the balcony. One great fist shot out toward the quiet form below, a clawed finger shooting to point at her in an accusing manner.

"You cannot!" he cried in his deep bass thunder. "It is of the Sith, and Sith only!

"Depart now ere I loose the dogs upon you, and consider yourself lucky to have been let away by this most magnanimous gesture!"

[ 03-08-2003 07:00 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

Her violet eyes blackened to twilight.

"Do not speak to me of what is and what is not Sith!" she hissed softly, slowly lowering her arm and joining it with its fellow in front of her. It then shot upward once again, and this time it was her turn to point the finger of accusation.

"I have done more for you and your peoples than generations of fullblooded Sith, and you know it!"

The hand slowly lowered once again as she let those words ring out against the walls of the courtyard surrounding her. The sharp, clarion quality was beginning to dampen, however, as those walls were gradually becoming filled with Sith of all ages, coming to see the sudden commotion occurring at the Temple. They lined the walls, some of them coming into the courtyard itself, but refrained from descending upon Graysith at a motion from the Dark Lord above.

She now flicked her hands against her cloak, flinging it open and back, revealing her sword RoraKessh which she had taken from her closet on Chosen One, a closet where she had placed it that long-ago day she had departed Koris'ian with her new Blood Hunt companion, seeking the destiny which yet lay ahead at that time.

One in fact not too dissimilar to the one facing me now, she mused as she watched Roan's eyes widen at the implication carried upon that one quick motion.

Beside him, his mate was nearly beside herself with blood-lust.

Graysith only smiled more sweetly....

[ 03-08-2003 06:04 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

"As the Lady that you are, my love," Roan's words whispered directly into her ear, his hot breath acting like a balm to soothe her anger, to channel it in the direction in which it would be more useful. She shuddered in his hands, slowly recapturing control over herself, and at length stood silent.

"You shall defeat her easily enough, my dearest wife," those words continued, even as she was being turned and led off of the balcony. Through the bedchamber where the spawn of that witch yet slept, she allowed herself to be taken down into the courtyard, and by the time she had gained it she was no longer blind with wrath but fortified by it, and ready to take up the Challenge of Title so clearly given.

So fruitlessly as well, she smirked as she came to a halt, suddenly aware that the dagger in her hand had been replaced by her own sword. She shot a look brimfull of victory into Roan's eyes.

"For you, my love. Her lungs, this I do promise...."

Then she stepped forward, all warrior, eager to swat down this fly who dared buzz so annoyingly in her ear.

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

But to all the Sith present, the term "unexpected" didn't come close to describing their utter surprise at it's outcome.

It wasn't that Kreesha was inept. Far from it, as the mate to the Dark Lord of the Warriors and warrior herself, she was one of the most skilled in the way of such, in battle and tactics and challenges thus dealt with on the field of honor. But it was the latter ideal that was to lead to her unexpected defeat at the hands of Graysith. For Kreesha battled with the honor of thousands of generations of Sith warriors behind her, while Graysith...

While Graysith, disdaining the ease with which she could defeat this wench with her Claw, had set it aside to strike back with every lick of strategy and skill she had learned from one of the darkest and most powerful of the dark jedi ever to stride pridefully through the universe:

Darth Wicked.

It was laughably effortless for her to keep Kreesha off-balanced by cunning application of force shove, or using the mere Force to send dust flying into her eyes to blind her, easy enough for the final blow when Graysith sent herself flying overhead in a great Force-boosted leap, lashing down inexorably with RoraKessh even as she soared over Kreesha, her blade ringing down to clamor against the uplifted one of the Sith, to knock it crashing from her hands and skirling away across the stones.

She landed on both feet, her knees bending to absorb the shock, and whirled like a panther. Once more RoraKessh lashed out, this time even as she turned, but as unerringly correct in its trajectory as if it had eyes of its own with which to see.

The flat of the blade impacted against Kreesha's knees, and she was sent crumpling down upon the cold stones. She had scarcely landed when Graysith was there, the tip of RoraKessh at Kreesha's throat.

Her violet eyes stared down into Kreesha's.

"Perhaps the dark jedi were strong enough at that," she murmured, then quickly placed her foot upon Kreesha's throat. The Sith warrior's hands came up reflexively, grasping about her ankle, claws digging deeply, seeking the Achille's tendon. But Graysith had set that foot down just so, and all Kreesha could do was tug against the foot which steadily bore down with greater and greater pressure.

Graysith looked up to Roan, read the inevitable in his eyes. Smiling, she shook her head.

"Not death," she murmured. "It is not necessary, for I have defeated her."

Then she turned her attention back to the fallen warrior. Her sword arm raised high, came swooping down, once... twice... and Kreesha lay completely dehorned beneath her foot.

The Chosen Daughter then placed the tip of RoraKessh into Kreesha's mouth, forcing it open... and now using the Claw reached in and slowly but successfully knocked out her four fangs in quick succession. Then drawing the claw back, she lifted it to Kreesha's forehead.

"That you shall never forget," she whispered sweetly, even though she doubted the Sith ever would.... and proceeded to inscribe her name on the flesh of Kreesha's forehead, emblazoning it there with her first touch of the All that it would remain there for the rest of Kreesha's life.

Which, knowing of the pride these Sith carried, she somehow doubted would be much longer....

She ended the dishonor by raising RoraKessh for a final time, and sending it down straight and true against one of the hands yet holding her by the ankle. That hand was neatly severed from the arm, it's bleeding stump quickly knocked away as Graysith flicked it from her with her sword, watching the golden tattoo become dull and lifeless even as that severed hand bled away what life it might yet have in it.

Then she merely walked up to Roan, and held up her wrist.

"By laws of your own, I rightfully reclaim title as Dark Lady of the Warrior clan of the Sith," she said. She then turned round once, twice, that all the Sith who had come would see it blazing there in golden victory upon her wrist.

The third time she turned, Kreesha was nowhere to be found. In her place were several blotches of blood, four fangs, and her long and beautiful horns. Graysith returned to that place of victory and found where the warrior's sword had been flung; with a quick motion she retrieved it from the ground and raising it high then broke it over her knee.

Then, her flaring Glyph leading the way, she whirled and entered into the Temple, to find her daughter and to take up the place within its walls she had earned.

Perhaps not in quite as honorable a manner as one might have wished, but all that mattered was the outcome, after all.

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

...then her eyes darkened even further, and she smiled.

"So strong..."

It may have been the whisper of a breath of wind... or the merest of utterance falling from her lips. The approaching Dark Lord really didn't know, nor did he care as he came up behind her slight figure.

A hand bearing a dagger raised...

Graysith raised a hand of her own, almost as an afterthought.

"You should know better than that, Ankrist," she said smoothly, now turning around to view him directly. Her visage darkened with pleasure to see the hideous intermix of pain and rage playing upon his own.

"And what did you expect, Ankrist?" she continued, now turning slightly sideways and taking up her daughter's sweaty hand. She raised the palm of it to her lips in a cool kiss, then held it thus, considering.

The sudden motion a near blur, she took the Claw and incised about her Tattoo... held it over her daughter's wrist, pressing wrist to wrist. And when she pulled away, half that mysterious sigil was imprinted into the very cells of ShaRhylla's flesh.

She whirled then, and stared steadily at Roan.

"She is your daughter as well, and your firstborn," she said, knowing this to be true.

He scowled, but could not deny the truth of her words. He struggled with himself for a moment, then with a growl of anger threw the dagger from him. Coming up, he curled his lip in derision, then swiftly repeated the rite she herself had just performed. And when he pulled his wrist away from ShaRhylla's, it was to reveal the entirety of a new Tatoo of Entitlement as part of her flesh, one half of the House of Roan, the other half House of Q'utaro.

Graysith smiled sweetly.

"That is the closest in which these two houses shall join, Ankrist," she purred in his ear. Then she turned her back on him in utter contempt of his inability to harm her or the child of their union, and continued to watch over her sleeping daughter.

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

Erik Kartan jolted from his semi-thoughtful state to full alertness when something within him...

...some sort of "hole" created in the Force by the disappearance of his wife and son...

...snapped back into place. But something wasn't quite right still, he could sense it on a gut level...

...and he could somehow sense it from her as well. She was so very faint...

Where are you? he thought through that link they shared, hoping that in the distance she could pick him up as well.

But to no avail. A simple and very real chill instead raced through him...

...and whether it was from the mere fact Shayla wasn't responding or something else entirely, Erik couldn't be certain. He tried reaching to her several times with the same results, and with each attempt his deep brown eyes grew more distant and more concerned.

If he couldn't get her to respond, he couldn't figure out where she was...

...not without a clue of some sort.

So he was right back to square one even though he knew she lived...

...though this strange lack of response from her implicated something Erik didn't even want to consider right now.

Proximity alerts began to register on the navboard of the warship then, the red light of one particular sigil indicating his approach into Sith space, and the eminence of reversion. He turned his eyes to the navboard then, his brown eyes defocusing a bit as the cold reality hit him.

If Shayla isn't responding, then this is STILL your only chance of locating her...

As if on cue to that particular thought, the warship reverted to realspace...

...and established orbit around the primary planet of the system: Khar Delba.

[ 03-09-2003 08:56 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

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

The voice was most definitely Shayla's, but she sounded drained...and pained. He frowned darkly as her words fell into his worried mind. "I'm on Sullust in the Azure Planetoid, Room 423. Please hurry...I need you so badly..."

The comm fell silent even before he could reply, so he stretched out through the Force for her. Again, she was there, but unresponsive. His frown only deepened.

I'm coming... he thought out to her, programming the warship for a little "sidetrip" before he went to Sullust.

No way could he pick his wife up in this warship...

...and he had the feeling he was going to have to do so in person...

Glancing at the Sith world before him once more then, Erik reoriented the ship then to the appropriate departure vector, and punched the hyperspace sigil. Once more the ship simply glided right into hyperspace, and Erik couldn't help but frown even more darkly, knowing on a gut level that something horrible had happened to his wife.

Dammit, Tyberius...what did you do to her...?

(((OCC: Follow Erik Kartan to The Lion's Den in the CSWU. Thank you.)))

[ 03-09-2003 11:26 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

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

Aeylmaar gave his adopted Father a direct glance, his amber eyes unwavering before the volcanic pair before him.

"Now, Father?" he said simply, his voice quiet and controlled even though every inch of his body was trembling with barely restrained excitement.

The great Dark Lord of the Sorcerers inclined his horned head, closing his eyes briefly in acknowledgment. And when he lifted his face, it was to find his adopted son had vanished.

He smiled.

Follow Aeyelmaar to The Lion's Den in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

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

"Such matters are not of concern to us. You will come about, and return this ship to Khar Delba immediately."

His smile only broadened when Aeylmaar raised a hand and departed from the warship, not deigning to speak so much as another word.

Following his instructions to the letter.

Lord Aelvedaar waved a clawed hand before the Octahedron, and the image of Aeylmaar and Erik swirled into obscurity even as behind him now Aeylmaar stepped from literally nowhere and came up to his side.

He turned to him with a smile, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, my son."

Then he turned back to the Octahedron, where another image formed... again, that of an external view of the warship.

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"You did well, my chosen heir," he intoned, placing a clawed hand on Aeylmaar's shoulder. "But this one has apparently chosen to ignore your words...."

With that he turned to the Octahedron, raised both arms, reached out through the All...

Somewhere in hyperspace....

...and within the warship the cyberbiotic brain awoke. It immediately sensed the Calling from its Master, the singing of the Beacon, the Beckoning Home...

...and smoothly popped an emergency override into play, turned itself about in hyperspace, reoriented, and headed toward the unknown space where a dim little star existed with it's twin children....

[ 03-11-2003 11:01 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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Still in hyperspace...

Erik hadn't moved an inch from the controls of the Sith warship since the moment he'd known he was most likely headed for Khar Delba. He still had absolutely no control of the ship whatsoever, and had just been reminded of that situation when a light again flashed on the navboard to join the steadily glowing green one that had been since this whole affair had begun.

The new flashing light came from a sigil he recognized: the proximity indicator. He frowned a bit at that, knowing that this usually occurred right before hyperspace reversion.

But this ship was NOT reverting. Rather she continued to blast on her hyperspace course. Erik wondered if he had angered the Sith so much that they were about to get rid of him altogether.

But then, that wouldn't get them their blasted ship back in anything but pieces. Besides, knowing this ship, she could probably revert from hyperspace in but a second and land on an Imperial credit...

Erik wondered just where the ship was going to land, considering Khar Delba, unlike K'eel Doba, had absolutely no spaceport. At least, there wasn't one that Erik was aware of...

And then it happened. In the matter of the blink of an eye, the warship just stopped,, a move that would have been completely impossible for any other ship. But not for this one, apparently.

Erik stood a bit hesitantly, gazed out of the viewport, and wondered just where the hell he was on Khar Delba...

...and how the hell he was ever going to get off-planet again.

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Ahhhh...when dreams become reality, how strange it is...

...but was the return of the Sith a dream, or a nightmare...?

Erik didn't know what to think anymore, considering all the questions that had been raised. But now he'd have to decide, for until he found passage off-world, he was stuck here...

...with all the reborn Sith.

Erik pursed his lips as he considered this, then his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar yet distant little niggle.

Where are you...? Shayla queried.

Erik frowned, knowing he'd have to tell her, uncertain as to how she might respond.On Khar Delba, order to return the Sith warship...

...I don't know how I'll get back to you...

...but I will.

Even as he made this little promise along that treasured Force-link, Erik gathered his wits about himself, and proceeded out of the warship and towards the city, making all due haste and fully intending to not even stop til he reached the Great Temple.

Shayla wanted answers concerning the Sith...

...and he'd be damned if he wouldn't get them while he was trying to figure out just how he'd ever fullfill his promise to return to her...

[ 03-13-2003 10:15 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

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...a fact Erik was rather thankful for. To those who might have been onlooking, he sure the hell hoped he looked like he felt right at home here and that absolutely nothing was wrong. At length he approached the steps to that Great Temple, a Temple he had visited not so long ago in a much different mental frame of mind. Immediately he proceeded inside, and stretched outward with his senses to feel the presence of Dark Lord Aelvedaar...

...only to come up with nothing. Granted, Erik wasn't all that surprised, but he'd hoped otherwise. A little tendril of anger made itself known at that. Dammit, I really AM stuck here...

gods Shayla, I hope you'll be allright...

He jerked his thoughts from this and sighed, not knowing anything else to do but wander the corridors of the Temple til he could come up with some sort of plan. All the while Erik's mind was full of images, full of memories of times gone by. So clearly he remembered coming to this very planet and being captured...

...so clearly he remembered Shayla's struggle to admit her feelings to him and their interactions with the Sith. In all this, he'd never truly sensed anything untoward from Lord Aelvedaar...

...he'd seemed somewhat distant, perhaps, but not manipulative...

...and Aeylmaar? He'd greeted he and Shayla and the others which such eagerness and with such kindness...

...so how had this all so suddenly and inexplicably changed into something so completely reverse? Was it simply a matter of timing, or had nothing really ever changed at all?

Who was the true master manipulator: Aelvedaar...or Roan?

Erik didn't know where to start with the questions he had, and with the questions he knew his wife had as well. And, at this point, he wasn't altogether certain that he'd find someone who could answer them...

...let alone someone who actually would.

[ 03-15-2003 01:31 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

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She didn't even stop, but waved an arm and allowed the All to open that door for her. With no hesitation in her stride whatsoever she came within, coming to a halt beside the elaborately curtained bed. A sweep of one arm revealed its warm sanctum: it was empty.

The Glyph flashed one more time, then channeled down the electromagnetic spectrum as a slight noise came wafting to her ears. Graysith let her smile lead her the remainder of the way through this beautiful room she once shared with Recinis, passing the immense fireplace and coming to the doorway leading out onto the balcony.

ShaRhylla stood there, limned against the flickering twilight, her slim figure outlined by the celebratory noises coming up from the courtyard below.

Graysith's smile turned predatory... then she masked that expression beneath one of motherly concern. In one flowing motion she was beside her daughter, one arm going around her shoulders, the other making an expansive motion outward, indicating the city of Phrinnchatka which lay below.

"Soon this shall be yours, ShaRhylla, and more...."

She fell silent then, her grip tightening a bit around ShaRhylla's shoulders before her arm dropped and joined its fellow in front of herself. Beside her ShaRhylla remained silent, but took a small step sideways, to stand closer to her.

Together they stood then, mother and daughter, watching the continuing festivities below.

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