“No, my lady,” he said, following. “I did not sense anything just now.”

He sighed and lowered his voice, leaning in closer to her as he followed. “But it would not surprise me that something would be here. When I last saw you here, it was if something had possessed you. Something foul, sinister. Whatever it was could still he here.”

Phalomir drew up a good amount of magickal energy, holding it in case it was needed. He then thought a moment, then added “It happened after the bomb went off, in the store room… there.”

Phalomir indicated the hallway leading to the store room, which by now was also where the Dark Lady had cast her attention. He took in a deep breath and tried to reach out to the Eye, but nothing responded. Yet something definitely had Jharmeen concerned, and he was ready to lay everything on the line to defend her.

While she paused, he slid past her and positioned himself outside the door. He inhaled again and turned the latch, throwing the door open wide to reveal…

… a store room.

Nothing more, everything neatly stacked for quick access.

“This room is not the way I last saw it. Boxes were scattered, the panel on the far wall was open… It appears the maid has been here.”

[ 06-23-2004 05:17 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

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

Soon.....

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

The pointing Claw indicated a dark shadow snugged between two of the packing crates. Involuntary energies flashed from it's tip, splashing the non-metal of which the ship was made with brilliant ultraviolet sussurations. Graysith pursed her lips, a tinge of annoyance creeping across her face at her own lack of control; with a surge she managed to keep the loosed energy from doing anything other than light the wall and nook and room.

"I thought I saw... eyes. Turquoise eyes...."

She couldn't help shuddering, recent memories of Dark Lord Roan's shade vying for attention with others of her dearest Dark Heart.

Who was that? Was it Roan? Certainly it couldn't be Darth Wicked; he had no All capability, he could no more enter into the warship than he could exist unprotected in the vast cold death of space.

Unless he had assistance... but whose?

Realizing that the shadowy being seemed to have disappeared for the moment, she relaxed a fraction, and turned to Phalomir.

"I find this unsettling, to say the least. Only one with the All would have the ability to guide himself through the Darker Realms into this ship; the Force used by jedi and dark jedi alike has no power here.

"Yet not that many can use the powers taught to me by Lord Aelvedaar."

She blinked, gazing up into his green eyes, seeking answer there.

"Please, find what it is that you seek, and let us hasten from this ship and back to K'eel Doba. I feel strangely... haunted here."

[ 06-23-2004 04:04 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

“I fear what I seek is no longer here,” he said. “Allow me one more moment, perhaps I can discern through Sith magick what has happened here.”

He turned to look the Dark Lady in the eyes, his face turning to a slight frown.

“I have never tried this before, let us hope it works.”

Phalomir closed his eyes and concentrated, allowing his magick to form into a coherent thread. He focused the energies and began weaving with it in his mind, blending his own personal experience with time itself, and forming a spell that could possibly read the trace of echoes left in this room. He reached out and touched the wall, the energy flowing outward all along the metal.

What happened here? he asked the magick.

His mind was immediately overwhelmed with images and emotions. Great anguish, waves of unbearable guilt, utter despair rushed through him, and flashes of a person on her knees weeping uncontrollably on the floor passed quickly before him. Then a moment of silence, determination, and she quieted and stood, then a wave of her hand.

Then nothing.

His eyes flashed open, and he looked again to the Dark Lady. He was left with an empty feeling, the energies within him depleted. THis was not a spell he felt he could attempt very often, especially for the small glimpse of imformation it provided.

Yet the woman, she was familiar.

Very familiar.

He continued to stare into Jharmeen's eyes, her concern and impatience growing visible. Millions of thoughts at once vied for attention in his mind, then a thought suddently emerged from the whirl and stunned him into realization.

She did this to her herself...

But why?

His mouth opened, as if it wanted to speak. Lacking purpose, it closed again. He fought against the strange feeling of hopelessness, a feeling most foreign to him until now.

“We should leave,” he said at last, hoarsely. “What I seek is no longer here.”

[ 06-23-2004 06:44 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

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

"Yes, I agree," she repeated even as she made ready to open another portal back into the Darker Realms, so they could then depart from this ship and finally gain safe haven in Phrinnchatka.

Suddenly she paused.

The Glyph blinked.

"There is something... something has happened," she said tersely; then with no further ado she whirled away from Phalomir and hurried down the corridor of the ship. After following several interior passages, she at length came to a large double door; a wave of her hand before it ignited the hidden sensors, and the door obliging slid open to reveal the bridge of the ship.

Her eyes flew to the nearest porthole, followed quickly thereafter by her feet. She pressed up against the cold non-glass of it, laying the Claw-bearing hand up against the material as if to clasp the defiant stars without.

"The chronotic shield," she whispered, not knowing if Phalomir had heard her, or indeed if he had even followed her.

"It is gone..."

[ 06-23-2004 10:34 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

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

“Only the creator of the shield can lower it, is that not true?” he asked. “I am troubled by this turn, we should almost certainly be leaving now.”

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

She just couldn't quite... remember what it was.

The Glyph flared, giving no answer; with a little shudder she dropped her hand and straightened her shoulders. Her violet eyes cut into starry night outside the viewport.

"I agree, we should go," she finally spoke, her voice stronger now. Turning away from the window, she returned to the navigation board and let her fingers dance gracefully upon it.

"But I will enter that horrid realm no more. The shield is gone; we shall regain our ship."

With that she set course for K'eel Doba, and enabled.

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

“I believe the Empire has established a blockade of sorts around some Sith worlds,” he said as he sat in one of the chairs. “We may need to contend with that.”

Phalomir looked around the bridge, allowing the memory of the recent past come back to him. It seemed not that long ago when he had sat in the same chair discussing the next moves with Shayla and Jharmeen. When they had been sabotaged to emerge from hyperspace in the range of an exploding star, and then the discussion afterwards when Jharmeen had compared herself to Aelvedaar, and Phalomir would have none of it. She was much better than Aelvedaar, he had told her, because she had balance – she had looked into her own heart, and among the pain of what she had done in her past, the difficult choices, the hardships she had caused, she had still found the capacity of goodness, of forgiveness and to be forgiven, and the ability to love. She had found Phalomir there.

He looked to her, sitting at the controls of the ship, intently staring out the viewport as if trying to remember something.

He had walked with her in her memories, he had battled the beast within her, he had stripped the insanity brought on by the knowledge of her past and plugged that hole with part of his own consciousness, his own love. And no matter what had been done to her memory, either by herself or another, he believed that piece of him was still there.

But for now, perhaps that was enough. If she had indeed done this to herself, then there must have been a very good reason, and reversing it could have devastating consequences. Somehow, he would need to place his feelings for her aside, and keep himself alive with the hope that someday she may find that love once more.

But until then, he would remain fiercely loyal to her. He would do his best to serve both her and the Sith as Dark Lord and faithful servant. But he felt he could not hide his love for her, ever.

As he continued to look at the Dark Lady, a sudden chill crept up his back. He cautiously turned his head to the door of the bridge, hackles and defensive magick both rising. There was nothing there, but the strange feeling remained, a feeling that they were not alone.

“My lady,” he said quietly. “Do you… feel that?”

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

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

Where was she? Was she safe? What was Roan planning to...do...with her?

The very thought made Terrin wish more than anything that he was in a better position to go after her, to help her on his own. But since he couldn't do that, at least not at the moment, he was bound and determined to make do with what he had. Thus it was that he found the strength to push forward in Phalomir's mind and take control.

"What about Galen?" Terrin opened up with, realizing that they were now departing from the Darker Realms, "She may still be back there with Roan."

Falling silent at that, Terrin waited to see what response he might receive.

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

But then he heard the thoughts of another. Hey, it was just like the old days when he and Phalomir had their minds stuck in the body of that Panthar guy! Each one would vie for control of the body, and the human didn’t have a clue for the longest time of what was happening. It was a good time, to be sure.

But this was different. Phalomir had his own body back, and Thoran was a prisoner in it. But who was this other consciousness? Thoran let his memory work…

We were in the Darker Realms, and Gray had me caught by the balls like a womp-rat… Oh, hell buckets, she had the Finger of R’Lous! And then she must have put me in here… So who is in here with me? Hmmm… Oh gasp, it’s Terrin!

“Darrin Tanner?” he called out softly with his mind. “Is that you? Buddy! I’m glad you made it out of the Darker Realms! Um, we are out, aren’t we?”

[ 07-09-2004 01:38 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Thoran ]

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

Graysith let a breath pass between herself and Phalomir, and was about to reply when something odd seemed to bite and nip at the corners of her memories. She frowned, blinking, trying to put a finger on the strange, yet somehow warmly familiar sensation, but to no avail.

Whatever it was, it had interrupted her reply to Phalomir quite cleanly, nipping the words off between her very teeth.

Her jaw dropped, and yet no words came. Then she twisted in her seat, and cast a look at the Sith.

He was returning a remarkably vacant look right back at her, his piercing eyes hooded and looking right through her, as if his full attention had been drawn inward to peruse something deeply smug and secret.

Or if he was... possessed.

She shivered, instinctively grasping her arms and holding herself tightly. Strange indeed, the suddenly new aura this warship had taken upon itself.

Not quite knowing what to do, she rose to her feet and came over to him. One slender hand laid lightly upon his broad shoulder, fingering the richness of the cloth it touched.

"I-- I sense... something," she nearly stammered; then she got a grip on herself and forced her voice to normalize. The Glyph flashed on her forehead, almost in reproach for this odd indecisiveness she seemed to be caught in.

"I cannot quite make out what it is; what is it you feel, Lord Phalomir?"

She quieted for a moment, letting her hand remain where it was, and then added almost as an afterthought:

"Do not fret yourself over the blockade; we are quite able to bypass it altogether."

Inwardly, she found herself frowning again, and couldn't help but react by squeezing his shoulder.

He was Sith. He certainly should know of the capabilities of this ship...

Shouldn't he?

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

Putting that answer aside then, Terrin turned his focus back to taking control of Phalomir's body so he could get his concerns to Graysith.

Kriffing hell, but this was going to take time...

Still, he slowly managed to worm his way through the somehow distracted spirit of Phalomir to take control of his body. Suddenly, he saw what Phalomir saw, and at last he knew he was in control.

"What about Galen?" he then spoke again, figuring that this was probably going to be an abrupt change of subject from whatever Phalomir and Graysith might have been speaking of before he took control, "She may still be back in the Darker Realms..."

Trailing, he stood up, stepping forward a bit then turning to look at Graysith, whose violet eyes remained eeriely unchanging even as he awaited her reply.

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

Graysith trailed even as the word slid from her lips, her eyes darkening as memories of a day which to her was in the fairly recent past came flooding over her. A world, stark and rust and sere shined hotly in front of her, beckoning her with insidiously promising fingers, quietly whispering to her of power and omnipotence and the role she could portray if she would only pick up that rock and--

She jerked, and focused more closely on Phalomir, effectively slamming that particular door closed as she did so. But it was not quite totally shut; a persistent image of another flame-headed young woman now rose up to taunt her.

Galen....

"What do you know of my sister?" she then asked in a honeyed voice, syrupy sweet and sickeningly sticky, her violet eyes filling with a sharp niggle of something not quite sane....

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

Then a crude burst of thought blasted from behind, rudely pushing Phalomir’s consciousness to the side. As he lost control of his own body he caught a thin veil of memory that vaguely reminded him of the human Terrin Danner, but that image was quickly lost as he suddenly felt the energy he had been seeking surge once again. Taking advantage, he allowed his mind to follow this new surge and trace it. Tucking his own spirit safely into a dark corner of his mind, Phalomir let his powers flow freely along that strange energy.

He felt his thoughts reaching outward, following the trail of power. He sensed open space, and soon his powers were stretching as they hurtled along this energy. Then a cloud of thought came borrowing along this line, and Phalomir paused. A message of warning filtered itself through the trail, followed by the feeling of an oddly familiar mind trying to communicate.

“Who are you?” Phalomir sent through the strange link.

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

Aeylmaar jumped figuratively at the sudden influx of power, a mental reply bearing the unmistakable scent of Sith magick. He smiled then, nodding, and settling back against the pilot's seat reached out more strongly, now joining his own handling of magick with the powerful strength of the All.

The interior of the little fighter disappeared as he closed his eyes in concentration, strengthening the link he had sent out, and anchoring it upon the receiving end so it would not be severed unless he deemed it to be.

"I am Aeylmaar, of the Sorcerer's clan," he sent back along that link, knowing the recipient would recognize him by his voice and mental signature.

And as well, hoping that the one replying to his call would likewise recognize that he came once again as a friend.

"You are in danger of death, a Cult Assassin--"

He paused then, unwilling to "speak" any further, for fear that, improbable as it might seem, other unseen but big ears might somehow be lurking nearby. For a moment he fiddled with his controls, then sent another request.

"I realize these fighters are small; may I meet you in a system of your choice so we may speak of this further?"

He sat back more deeply in his seat, hoping he sounded as sincere as he truly was.

[ 07-29-2004 07:43 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

"What do you mean, what do I know of Galen? She's in danger, that's what I know," he stated.

Quieting for a moment at that, Terrin thought back, recalling how Graysith had mentioned some sort of memory loss and recalling how he himself had thought she was acting rather like her old self, a self that he and Galen had fled from on more than one occassion.

"If you can't remember your blood oath with me, and about protecting Galen from Roan," he continued with, "Then what do you remember?"

[ 07-29-2004 02:45 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Terrin Danner ]

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

Something about that name brought a certain chill of familiarity to the Chosen One, even though she swore she had never heard it before in her life. As she had never heard of this Terrin Danner, or Phalomir, who both by their presence here and sheer body language told her otherwise.

She frowned, feeling the rise of the Beast within, feeling the Glyph beginning to flare. She cast a glance at Phalomir, who looked lost upon another world. It seemed strange to hear those direct words to her coming his mouth while his focus seemed elsewhere.

She struggled with rising emotions of her own. A figure, tall and imposing, clad in raiments of black and scarlet and gold and the most royal of blue, ashen black hair flowing into eyes of the most brilliant turquoise, danced before her. She saw him the first time they met; the image segued into one upon the sere and pock-marked surface of Khar Delba, where only the fiercely looming Temple presided over the lessons he taught her there.

Another image came before her, one molten-eyed and gentle and kind and smiling. A clawed, red-skinned hand reached out to her. A voice whispered to her in seeming guilelessness, telling her of her destiny with him, of what she had to do--

As well of who her enemies were, those who would stand opposed to this grand and glorious end.

The Sith. It was all about the Sith....

Yet--

She frowned again, and focused more clearly upon Phalomir.

If her destiny was to bring back the Sith... and if the only Sith, to her knowledge, that existed within this time was her dear Sire, then...

Why was this one here? Who was this Roan of which he spoke?

Why could she not remember?

She swayed, a dark inkling beginning to rise.

For if indeed vast portions of her memory were missing, who would be the most likely one to have made this to happen?

The Beast abruptly settled down with a trailing whine. The Glyph normalized on her forehead.

"I-- I remember only my dearest Dark Heart... and my Sire, Lord Aelvedaar, whom I brought forth into this time by-- by--"

Again she frowned, remembering. It suddenly all seemed so strange, almost surreal to her.

"By using a device of which I had no control," she finally completed the sentence. "One which had power enough to bring him here, even after his admitted death in the past.

"I do not know just how this happened, only that I did it. And then my Dark Heart-- betrayed..."

Her lip trembled as the foul memory of her brush with death flashed into her head. How Wicked had sent his brother to kill her. How she stood up to his accusation of betrayal toward Wicked, and how Aelvedaar had so unexpectedly wisked her away after Wicked's brother, instead of killing her, chose to humiliate her instead.

A humiliation which would affect her only from the standpoint of any connection with humanity, not Sithdom, as Aelvedaar had pointed out later to her.

She would have no need of humanity any longer, as soon as the Sith were returned from the dead.

That repressed memory popped up like a jack-in-the-box, starkly laughing and evil-eyed as a new realization struck home.

Who was she, to turn her back on her kind, all for the revival of another race long dead? How had she come to be in such a position: physically, mentally and emotionally as well?

Aelvedaar--

Another shudder racked her frame, and sudden tears welled up in her eyes.

"I don't know you, I don't know anybody aboard this ship.

"I don't even know myself," she whispered, coming close to losing control but then with effort strengthening herself and letting the tears dry upon her face.

She wavered, made a choice. A difficult one.

"I need you to help me by telling me all that has happened," she finally said, suddenly understanding deep in her gut precisely who and what, in all likelihood, Lord Aelvedaar truly was.

[ 07-29-2004 06:32 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

But he came with a warning? Of an assassin of all things? This sounded much too feeble an excuse to draw them into a trap, and it made no sense that someone with the power of Aelvedaar would need a trap in the first place.

“We have set a course for K’eel Doba,” Phalomir called back. “But if what you warn is true, then perhaps a more remote location is in order.”

Names of systems tried to come into mind, but one in particular leaped past all others. And why not, since it had been the object of much attention lately.

“Let us meet at Korriban,” he replied.

The power diminished, and Phalomir had to withdraw. He let his consciousness wander back into place, and prepared to shove aside the annoyance that had taken over his body without permission and throw it back into a dark corner of his mind. But catching the trailing words from the Dark Lady, and seeing her face as her tears ran forth to cover her delicate cheeks, his heart gave pause.

He stood and walked to her, gently caressing her forehead with the back of his hand. He moved aside a tangle of flame-red hair and moved his hand to her shoulder.

“I have returned, my lady,” he said. “I have received a long distance warning from a friend, and we should alter course to Korriban to meet. In the meantime, much has happened to you in your young life. Much more than anyone should bear. I enter your story only recently in the grand design, but believe me, you are integral to my own story. I will allow Terrin Danner to answer you, to relate what he knows. Then I shall return to tell you more.”

[ 07-29-2004 07:18 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

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

The beginnign was the only logical place to start. "This will take some time," Terrin started, "But I will tell you all that I know."

And then Terrin did precisely that, starting with his entrance into Galen's life on Ambria, of their trip to Khar Delba to find Shayla Stargazer, who had later become Graysith's Adept and Chosen sister. He spoke nothing but the truth concerning their struggles with one another, but at length also explained how, through a very real and deadly threat to both Galen's life and Darra's life, they had come to terms with each other He told her of ShaRhylla's birth, of Roan and his deception concerning Rhylla and JhinDarra, And of how he had used both Graysith and Galen in his schemes to bring the Sith back on his own terms. He told her about the alliance and the times spent under the chronotic shield on K'eel Doba, and of all which took place there until the group was finally dissolved by Aelvedaar himself. He even told her of his and Galen's split, mentally chatising himself for not seeing how he had failed to put Galen's needs first always, and of how Graysith had eventually rescued him and Jasyn Lancaster from Imperial prison at the behest of Admiral Actar, whose part in this whole picture Terrin also carefully explained. He told their tale up to the point where they had gone to the Temple on K'eel Doba, and how they had been taken into the Darker Realms.

Then he went back, trying to recall any final tidbits he might have forgotten.

"That's what I can tell you to the point of te Darker Realms," he then said. "I'm uncertain what happened after that point...just that I apparently didn't make it through that. And I haven't any clues as to just how the Sith finally did come back. Perhaps Phalomir can now fill you in to the present...?"

[ 07-30-2004 03:08 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Terrin Danner ]

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

With that terse and somewhat cryptic message Aeylmaar closed the connection between himself and the distant Phalomir. Reaching into a nearby nook, he withdrew the navigational log from its emplacement, and quickly found the proper coordinates to that mysterious world of the Sith. Moments later and those coordinates were typed into the semi-sentient brain of the ship; Aeylmaar sat back with a brief exhalation of air, realizing that from this moment on he was in all likelihood traitor to his Father, and thus to his kind.

He wavered...

I could easily bring them back-- I think. The Chosen One would be of no real consequence, and quite easy to handle. For although she and I possess similar levels of All-ability, I have Sith magick to augment that. As for the other, while he has magick, does he have the All?

Such considerations were flung into the wind as his heart and conscience rose up in stern reprimand.

I cannot. They are in danger, undeserved danger. It is wrong... wrong....

Finally completely committing himself, he flipped a particular sigil, enabling the command to engage.

The little fighter took off toward unknown space, leaving in its wake a flurry of starstreaks and highly expanded space and time.

[ 07-30-2004 04:31 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aeylmaar ]

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

Fantastic, she thought to herself, not even bothering to question the veracity of those words. For within her being, the Beast lay dormant, and the Glyph as quiet upon her brow.

This has to be truth... at least as he knows it.

Now a shudder rippled through her as an image of her loyalty to Roan flashed into her head, placed there by Terrin's insistance that indeed, this was once so. Not to mention the fact that he was the father of her child, or at least one of them.

Another tremor shook her.

I cannot believe it, she chastised herself, somehow keeping tears from springing into her eyes. It seemed that said tears had been altogether too insistent in placing themselves there as of late; she lowered her brows against them, and continued to stare off into middle space.

That he and I-- that I let....

The image clipped off as if a book were slammed closed, safely enclosing that horrid near-memory safely between its covers. She thrust that book aside mentally, not wishing to peer into it any longer. There it lay silently beside another, smaller book which lay as if discarded into the dust.

One telling of her brief time on Dagobah. And one of which she was yet utterly unaware.

Waiting now for Phalomir to continue with this fairytale, she was stricken with a new thought. For while she truly believed that what Danner was telling her to be the truth, again...

It was the truth to the best of his knowledge. Which didn't necessarily mean it was one hundred percent correct. Not to mention the gaping holes which had to exist in that tale, for certainly he had not been physically with her the entirety of the years her missing memories dealt with.

She lifted her head, and spoke aloud.

"Is there some way to verify that of which you speak, Mr. Danner?" she asked aloud, then waited quietly to see who would reply to her next.

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

“My knowledge of how the Sith were brought here is limited, my lady,” he began. “But what you had told me before leads me to believe that you were used by Roan, and possibly Aelvedaar, and your role in this event brought you great suffering. When we locate Shayla, she should be able to shed much light on this and independently verify much, if not all, of what Mr. Danner has spoken.”

Phalomir could almost feel the chills from the Dark Lady as she thought of Roan, and his own heart twisted at the thought of the hurt Jharmeen had suffered at the hands of the Sith. His own love for her wrestled with his logic, and perhaps for the first time in his life he had to struggle for words.

“I… I wish… For all you have done for the Sith, and for all they have done to you, I –“

He gave up and sighed.

“I wish I could answer all of your questions. But I am afraid that when I tell my story only more confusion will follow. It is perhaps best to understand your own past before you try to understand my role in your life. I’m not sure I understand completely myself. But for now please know that you have my devotion.”

And undying love… he thought.

“But I can tell you of what I know of our present situation. Roan is dead, I killed him myself through the power of the Eye of R’lous. It is a Sith device that can somehow feed me bursts of All energy, though it is unpredictable. It is that device which I came here to find, but it is not here. Roan was in league with Aelvedaar, as best as I can tell, and is somehow still active even in death via the Darker Realms. You experienced his evil madness there yourself just recently. Aelvedaar has some sort of grand plan, but I do not know what that involves beyond causing you grief. His son, Aeylmaar, has apparently gone behind Aelvedaar’s back and has come to warn us of something. He is enroute to Korriban to meet us there, upon the Field of Discourse near the Valley of the Dark Lords. I know this is a risk, but something is telling me that this one is perhaps worthy of our trust. But we must alter course now.”

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

Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a means to show her the truth, "corroborating statements" by others aside.

"I agree," she finally said, then leaned forward. Deft maneuvers of her hands upon the navigational console, and the ship dropped from hyperspace to orient itself. Then typing in the coordinates taken from the logs, she proceeded to alter their course, and set them on their way to Korriban.

The fabric of space and time yowled in defiance as a particle of its being ripped it asunder to then plunge into the strange dimensionality of hyperspace, where it moved along in spite of what mere physics would have it do.

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