"We- we are not certain," I say at last, not without a bit of trepidation leaching into the words that I manage to voice.

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

“You say the Master helped her discover the identity of Shayla’s attacker,” he said. “I presume she would begin with his disposal.”

Phalomir shuddered inside at this thought. To him, it was only the night before when he had held Jharmeen closely through the night, had shared with her the most tender and intimate of moments, and had thought that the bond they made would last forever.

But now, once again, fate had conspired against them. But he would not fall into despair, not again. He was Lord of the Armorers, and was ready to accept fate’s will.

But he still felt the connection, still wanted her… still felt hope…

He shook his head slightly, clearing it.

“And her last comments to you trouble me,” he said. “Why would the mention of me as Dark Lord set her off into a tirade? This concerns me as well, mixed with her sudden – dark balance, if you will. I do know that I do not envy this Rykounagin, and I fear what a reunion with her daughter may bring about. In fact…”

Phalomir turned, the tattoo upon his face glowing. He walked a quick stride to the crystal octahedron, and waved his hand over it.

“Show me ShaRhylla,” he said.

The image formed before him, the halfling woman with flaming red hair throwing her head back and apparently howling in rage. Though no sound came from the crystal, Phalomir could easily sense the furious power of her shout.

“We are too late,” he said. “She mourns the loss of Rykounagin and shouts in rage, alone. Graysith has perhaps banished her or left her imprisoned.”

He turned to the other three Sith. “Perhaps ShaRhylla could be a strong ally against whatever we may face from the darkness? We should go her.”

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

"Let us not be so hasty in our assumptions," I state as I move to stand before the magickal device. From beside me comes the quiet whisper of robes as Aeylmaar proceeds there as well.

I come to a halt before the Great Octahedron, and raise before it A Command.

"Show me the lad Rykounagin."

Again the mysterious stuff within the crystalline device whirls and moils as if having a life of its own, as in coalescing and adhering to itself it lets clumps and dark shadows begin to emerge. Soon those vague outlines sharpen, focus, and at length reveal an image that indeed I half expected to see:

It is the lad, apparently ensconced within the confines of a Sith fighter, hands at the eerie controls, a look of sheer determination lighting in his eerie eyes.

"You see..."

I wave a hand at the device as I send Phalomir a studied look.

"We cannot afford to assume anything."

I turn back to the device, request the position of the lad. His image flattens, distorts, subducted into yet more swirling currents of otherness which then reforms into something both strange yet eerily familiar:

It is the Octahedron's attempt to display a position within the strangeness that is hyperspace, overlaid with stellar coordinates. I lean forward, study those stars, then rear back with an indrawn breath.

"It appears that not only is the boy alive, but he is heading toward our system," I state the obvious, aware that perhaps not all present are adept in interpreting the images the Octahedron can show. After a moment's pause, I continue with an even more obvious conclusion.

"This can certainly bode no good."

[ 10-24-2006 10:18 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

“Can you bring him here, out of hyperspace?” he asked. “As you did with Jharmeen’s ship…” Phalomir choked slightly on her name, then resumed. “When you brought our ship out of hyperspace prematurely near a sun, then brought it to nova… wait, no, forgive me. That was before we knew you were imprisoned by a doppelganger.”

Phalomir raised his eyebrow.

“That is a story indeed, whoever imprisoned you was powerful enough to explode a star. In an inhabited system, by the way, killing thousands of colonists. That was horrible.”

Phalomir shook his head, then looked to the other Sith standing with him.

“But still, perhaps the boy has some insight as to what is happening. Can we bring him here?”

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

"Yes," I finally state, then hold up a hand to amend the affirmation.

"That is to say, perhaps to some degree. While I feel it a bit dangerous to attempt an actual physical link with a vessel ensconced in hyperspace, I believe with the aid of the Octahedron I can at least reach out to the boy and send him a mental call. This device does a bit more than merely show images; it assisted my Chosen One in bringing me forward to this time."

I stop abruptly having spoken those words, her very name enough to bring stabbing pain into my heart. Aeylmaar, yet standing beside me, clearly senses my brief distress for I suddenly feel the warmth of a compassionate hand upon my shoulder.

All but shrugging it off, I raise my head. Now is not the time to indulge in self-pity. Firming my shoulders, I approach the image still floating in the otherness that is at the Octahedron's most secret heart, lean toward it, reaching out to place an open hand against the cold, crystalline surface. This is followed by my forehead, then lips, which murmur a quiet incantation of awakening. The words conduct through the surface, impact the roiling greeny-goldness, taking an almost physical shape which then seems to arrow straight to the image of the Sith fighter.

It is pierced as if by a warrior's spear.

"Rykounagin. It is the desire of the Lords Aelvedaar and Phalomir that you come to Khar Delba. Your assistance is necessary.

"Come"

I pull away from the Octahedron, turn to the silently waiting Phalomir.

"And now we wait to see if the lad will respond."

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

“It appears your message has found its way to our lad’s ears,” he said.

The image showed a map of the system, with a small blip on a course for Khar Delba.

“I only hope that the insight we may gain from him is worth the risk we are taking. I have seen him at work, he is an assassin. He is also in great pain within his mind, I feel, and who is to know what recent events have confused his path.”

Phalomir returned his gaze to Aelvedaar.

“But shall know shortly,” he added. “Aside from ascertaining the current state of affairs, what more do you think we may do with him? If we want him to trust us, it will not come easy.”

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

"Yes," I agree with my fellow Dark Lord. "It appears the boy has come out of hyperspace; now I might be able to open a portal to his ship."

I turn a moment to Phalomir, study him closely. Then I reach out toward the image with my hand, bringing my claws together in a particular manner and twisting my wrist, just so. The image roils, wavers, and there appears an arrow of greeny-gold, which seems to come from nowhere to pierce it.

At the same time a familiar humming schtppt announces the presence of a portal's mouth behind us. My eyes slit as I tilt my head, now indicating the open portal with a wave of clawed hand.

"The door is opened, Lord Phalomir. Do with it as you will."

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

(((OOC: Phalomir hops into The Saving of a Soul in this forum)))

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

(Rykounagin) looked to the portal and called through it. "Why don't you tag along, eh Aelvedaar?"

I sigh wearily as the words come echoing about my Sanctum Sanctorum. Clearly, this lad appears either to be a dangerous one to ally ourselves with...

...or a frightened, and very confused youngster, one who has found his world turned topsy-turvy and in striking out against the Fates which dealt him the blow, one I know who goes by the name of Lord Roan, strikes out at anyone and anything that crosses his path.

I close my eyes a moment, seeking inner peace. Then, the movement quick and tuk'ata-like, I twist my hand just so...

The Portal closes, this time making no sound as it vanishes.

My lips thin to a determined line and I move to the Octahedron, there willing it show me the position of Lord Phalomir, that should anything untoward happen I might assist him in his endeavor to evade or otherwise reconcile himself from it.

[ 11-08-2006 12:56 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

I shake my head in dismay, watching as the erstwhile Dark Lord slyly moves his fingers, obviously jarring the hatch of the sith fighter open a mere millimeter or so as judged by Lord Phalomir's reaction. I make a furtive movement as I watch his slide toward the hatch, reach a hand out to the image in the Octahedron, prepared to quickly yank my fellow lord from the jaws of death which snap so closely on his heels.

But there I pause, for he yet remains aboard the ship. The fact tht the lad is highly agitated is obvious by the wild look in his feral eyes, by the veins which jump out upon his throat, by the framing of his mouth, which is opened in a near rictus as he shouts. Or so I assume; either that or his little ploy is backfiring, and he too is gasping for air.

I see Lord Phalomir struggle, his mouth now opening as well. Whether he gasps for air as apparently does the lad or attepmts to speak with him I cannot say, for the Octahedron can only reveal the image. To obtain any accompanying sound, I must travel to Phrinnchatka and seek out the Revealer in the Great Library of the Sith.

I do not think this a necessary tactic at this time, but keep my other arm raised in preparation of creating another portal, should events transpire where such a drastic measure is needed. In the meantime, I can only reach out to Lord Phalomir, contacting him in the only manner available to me.

"It is useless, my fellow Lord. Can you not see? He responds with threats, with hatred, with the passion of an animal trapped and seeing no escape. You made no move toward him which threatened, yet he responds in the manner in which he does.

"I am not fearful of you being sucked into the void, although should that happen I am here to bring you back home. Remember your early schooling, my friend: as more air departs the ship, less is available to carry you out. Your hold is yet strong; now the threat is one of simple oxygen deprivation.

"Shall I retrieve you now, before the poor lad manages to remove every last bit of air from the ship?"

[ 11-08-2006 02:34 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

I purse my lips into a grim line as I continue to watch as events play themselves out. Lord Phalomir's heart was in the correct place, but as any Sith would realize by what history has to reveal to us, there is simply no room in one's heart for the assassin. They are but a simple if deadly tool, developed by those without the honor to openly confront their enemies; I can see why Lord Phalomir believed this one would be pressed to assist us, bound as he was by ancient accord to the Sith.

The moment the boy made the furtive movement which opened the hatch was that when I myself knew differently, knew that this one was more than a mere tool as he somehow manages to act on his own device, without direction. And when one who is meant to be directed is instead placed in the position where he must tackle the chilling Void of autonomy, there can be only one outcome.

Insanity...

...which is very apparent this one suffers from.

Therefore it is with mute approval that I nod my head, watching as Lord Phalomir deals with the rogue assassin as easily as one quashes an annoying gleeberfly. Moments later, after a brief visit to the navigation board of the sith fighter:

((OOC: Coming from Phalomir's post in Saving of a Soul in this forum:

Phalomir waved his hand before him and looked up, signaling Aelvedaar.

Thank you.))

Still watching the image in the Octahedron, I re-open the Portal, experiencing the eerie sense of being in two places at the same time as I see it form in the cabin of the fighter in complete synchrony to it's awakening behind me. Moments later, the sound of rustling robes announces the presence of my fellow Dark Lord; I make a motion with one hand and the Octahedron obliges by panning out to a wider view.

I stand in silence as I observe the trajectory of the fighter, watch as it aims directly at an outermost moonlet, draw in a deep breath as it tries nothing whatsoever to avoid the obstruction but comes to a rocky landing on its surface instead. Zooming in once more, I sigh with relief to see the hull is secure.

But the engines are not so fortunate. One has sheared off entirely and lies in a twisted and crumpled mass accompanied by a thousand bits and pieces which lie scattered over several square miles of moonlet. Nodding that the boy is in no immediate danger of death, I close the Portal I have opened between the ship and my position in my Inner Sanctum. A quick sweep of my magicks assures no automated tricks of any kind had somehow been emplaced here during the time an opening existed between the two.

Now I turn to Lord Phalomir, and nod with approval.

"Excellent navigation, my friend."

The Octahedron once more captures my attention, now revealing the image of the inside of the fighter's cabin and focusing on the unconscious assassin. I hold my hand out to it, turn cock my head towards Phalomir.

"This one must be watched with the greatest of wariness and scrutiny, for after observing his actions, albeit from afar, I truly believe him to be mad."

Briefly then I outline the reasoning leading to my belief in the matter. Then raising my face away from Lord Phalomir for a moment, I gesture toward my Chosen Son.

"Aeylmaar, come."

In a moment he is beside me, face tilted respectfully down. I smile a little, reach out and with the placement of my hands about his face, clawed fingertips touching certain neural ganglial nexi, I create an unbreakable mental Link between us with the assistance of the All. I let my hand drop then, bidding Aeylmaar lift his face to follow it as it gestures toward the image within the Octahedron.

"I charge you with the task of watching this one, every moment, and to report to me anything unusual happening as far as this one is concerned."

My Chosen Son acquiesces with a half-bow, and then takes up a stance in front of the magickal device. I give his shoulder a brief squeeze of approval and love, and then turn back to Phalomir once again.

"And now, my fellow Lord; your thoughts on where and how we should next proceed?"

[ 11-09-2006 04:29 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

“We know no more than we did before visiting the boy,” he said from across the room as he turned to make his way back. “Time is drawing short, the Vong still approach and the Sith are not united to lead the galaxy.”

He stopped in front of Aelvedaar.

“Perhaps a meeting of the clans is in order to straighten this twisted knot? We should call upon Jhar-- upon Graysith. What do you think, Lord Aelvedaar? Let us confront her directly.”

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

"Perhaps you are correct in this, Lord Phalomir. Perhaps the direct approach is the best one. You must forgive my momentary hesitation, for I am no politician but a simple sorcerer of the clan.

"But this I do know--"

A somewhat rueful smile curls my lips and I motion for Phalomir to follow. Not waiting for him to do so, I turn and head toward a darkened nook in the extreme recesses of my Inner Sanctum, where I come to a halt.

Something tall and reflective stands hulking there, shining with magicks and nutrients to keep the life within it so, but in stasis.

I wave a clawed hand toward the Incubator.

"Remember this, for it may be the final card we have to play, my friend."

I back away so Phalomir can approach and take a closer look at the device, in which there floats, asleep, not growing but strangely alive, a fetus.

The one whose mother is the Stargazer of whom my Chosen One is so fond.

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

...or perhaps simply for someone...

[ 11-10-2006 01:22 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Zackary Kartan ]

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

“Who--”, he began. The rest of his words did not come. He swallowed hard and tried once more.

“Who is this? Is it— is it hers?”

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

"No, my friend," I state, now letting the hand fall to my side where it enters into the sleeve of it's fellow and disappears within the silken folde. Now I merely nod, indicating with my horns the incubator and that which floats suspended within it.

"This is the child of Shayla Stargazer Petrolu, the Adept and so dear a companion to my Chosen Daughter. Or so Aelymaar has informed me; how it has come to be here is something we are both not quite understanding. I believe it has something to do with an injury Shayla obtained while pregnant, and was brought here to seek assistance. Her child was placed here to protect its life, albeit in a state of suspension as it has been here for some length of time and has not aged since it has come to us."

I pause a moment, then turn and stare into the milky waters of the incubator.

"It may prove useful to us at some time in the future, having this child here and safe only within the confines of this device."

[ 11-16-2006 10:45 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

Phalomir turned away from the incubator and took a step back towards the center of the room. He then paused, looking at the floor.

“I will never stop loving her,” he said slowly. “Jharmeen is what she is, and I know I play a fool’s game with my hopes. But it is not a weakness, and I shall never give that part of myself away.”

He turned his head back to Aelvedaar.

“As I know you shall never either.”

He turned away once more, looking upwards at nothing in particular. “I can learn much from you, my lord, of putting oneself behind the needs of his people.”

He turned to face Aelvedaar fully, his movement slow and graceful.

“Shall we call to her, and begin down the road to saving our race?”

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

“I will be of little use in speaking with the Dark Lady,” he said. “Although I saved the life of her adept, she holds nothing but contempt for me. Agreeably so, after what I put both her and you though, my son. I believe my talents could be put to better use in speaking with our lad. Perhaps he would be more apt to listen than make war, at least for a short time.”

The Master stepped closer to Phalomir.

“I do not know if she loves you, or is capable of it any more. The darkness touched her deeply, and she is changed. When she was here, she spoke of how my plans of a united Sith would never by realized. But they were, in a future now past, through you. All impossible things are only so until they are done. If you truly have the feelings you radiate for her, never give that up.”

The Master then narrowed his eyes, and let his voice deepen.

Phalomir looked to Aelvedaar.

“And I think it is now time to find her. Shall we?”

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

I turn my hand palm up, indicate the rift.

"If you will, Lord Phalomir," I state simply before turning back to Aelomir.

"I believe I can create a portal to the moon where Lord Phalomir has stranded the assassin," I state flatly, and then do so, opening one up to the airless surface of the moonlet, then pausing before I join with Phalomir that I might re-close this portal before the assassin should discover it and attempt to escape here to Khar Delba.

[ 11-22-2006 04:34 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

Smiling, he recalled the interior of the fighter and opened his own portal into it.

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

"What plans have you from here, Lord Phalomir?" I ask him, simply and succinctly.

((OOC: Follow Aelvedaar and Phalomir into Destiny Uncertain in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

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

"Lord Aelvedaar? Lord Phalomir? We have run into trouble and need your assistance..."

It didn't take him long to recognize that voice as belonging to JhinDarra, who had gone with others to rescue those companions lost on Dagobah. Frowning but without letting his eyes stray from the image in the Great Revealing Device, he sidled over to the Portal and called back through.

"My Father... that is, Lords Aelvedaar and Phalomir have returned to K'eel Doba to discuss matters with the Dark Lady; I'm afraid they have closed the Portal they used to travel there so I cannot go to them in person to relay your request."

Sensing Darra's rising chagrin, he smiled ever so gently.

"I have contact with my Father; I will send him warning of your distress. Do not fear; I am certain at least one if not both of the Lords will come to your aid..."

He trailed a bit, his smile growing a bit unsteady now, for he of all people knew how stringently the Sith Lords tended to adhere to a course of action if they deemed that action to be their top priority. But that did not prevent him from turning away from the shimmering Portal, so as to contact the Dark Lords in as clear and direct a manner as possible, without distraction or impediment.

((OOC: The following message is sent to Destiny Uncertain in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.)):

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

[ 12-12-2006 05:45 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aeylmaar ]

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

"How good it is to see you all--" he began when his expectations were dashed by the sight of his adoptive Father stepping forth from the Portal, quite alone.

Save for the ominously silent body of Panthar that he carried in his strong arms.

Aeylmaar hurried from his post to the couch where Lord Aelvedaar was now placing the still form. Laying a hand atop Panthar's chest, he heaved a sigh of relief that he could sense him yet breathing. His amber eyes shot up to meet the molten ones of Lord Aelvedaar.

"I shall call for the Healers, Father; fear not, he shall be well kept."

He received a silent nod in reply, and immediately moved to summon servants. Doing so, did not see but heard the other-worldly schllpptt of a closing Portal, as the Dark Lord returned from whence he had come.

[ 12-22-2006 01:06 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aeylmaar ]

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

He stared at the walls ahead of him, the blue light throbbing slowly, almost melodically. The lights were dim, and came at odd intervals. Each one of the lights was a tiny animal, or perhaps colony of tiny animals, and each one seemed to have its own rhythm and timing. As he stared, the blue lights began to beat slightly faster here and there, some of them beginning to pick up on the beat of others around them. Soon the wall seemed alive with blue dots of light, like a wall sized neon sign flashing to patrons. “Come inside the Blue Cavern!”

That thought struck Panthar as completely sensible. As he mused over that, the lights changed, and now the dots were forming a pattern. A circle. It began large at first, with the dots around the edges stopping their pulsing. The circle grew smaller with each pulse, until at length only a small number of dots pulsed in a tight circle directly across from where he sat.

He watched the circle pulse steadily, becoming very aware of Galen next to him. Her body had grown warmer, and her grip tighter. He looked down, and was caught by total surprise to see her face glowing reddish orange like she was burning from the inside out. Her face turned to meet his, her eyes intense.

“Life for life,” she whispered.

His attention was drawn back to the wall by a sudden flash of light. The blue circle had widened, and the wall within it was crumbling away. From the center of the hole came flying a bat, dragging in its feet a long piece of cloth.

He looked back to Galen, but instead of her he now found himself holding a huge white spider, it’s furry body pulsing in tune with the blue circle.

He screamed, waking himself and sending the nearby healer into a start.

“The wall!” he cried out. “They have to break down the wall!”

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