Beauty never slumbers;
All is in her name;
But the rose remembers
The dust from which it came.​


Tsavong payed the man handsomely for the trip. He had left the merchant's vessel and caught a drifter's transport here to the furthest reaches of Fringe space, to the last known location of Zonama Sekot. It still remained here, a swirling orb of green and blue, wild as ever. It had been quite some time since the Lords or anyone had heard the rumblings of Sekot, the planet's conciousness. Some say he had died during the Gulag plague, that the planet itself had caught the disease and through Sekot's will alone the planet had expelled the plague... but at the cost of Sekot. Others will say that Sekot finally forsook this Galaxy and took his own life. Yet the planet spun on, teeming with life and as beautiful as the last time Tsavong had stepped foot here.​

The Qah'sa opened and began sporadically pouring digits onto it's mantlepiece. Tsavong stared in wonder, and began to interpret. They looked like coordinates... no, they were coordinates. These coordinates had to be the answer he was looking for.​

These coordinates had to be the answer to his dreams.​

The Yuuzhan Vong found himself trudging through the flora and fauna of Zonama Sekot, trekking for miles through the untamed landscape of this foreign planet towards these coordinates. His journey would last the majority of the day, as the sun was starting to set on the horizon, darkness ensuing throughout the jungle Tsavong had marched through. The large Yuuzhan Vong began to prowl through his surroundings for firewood with the intent of making camp and sleeping here for the night when he stumbled across a rather large structure in the brush.​

A hand wiped away many of the weeds and tree limbs, revealing a doorway.​

Tsavong quickly gathered a torch to reveal his surroundings.​

An Obelisk.​

A structure nearly two-hundred feet high, encroached and hidden by the massive jungle underbrush surrounding it. Though the structure itself was massive and ancient, much like the one of the Hydra Queen, it seemed to be completely overgrown and taken by the jungle of Zonama Sekot. Tsavong spent nearly an hour in the dark merely brushing away the door and clearing it of debris before being able to access the temple.​

It was dark and damp. The air was thick, heavy with moisture. The structure was organic once, birthed by the technology of the Yuuzhan Vong. To Tsavong, it looked like technology from another era... but it had long since died. Unlike most other obelisks, there was no scurrying of creatures, no breath of life in this place... it had long since died away, standing now only as a tribute to another age, a testament to it's creators.​

In the middle of the circular entry-way stood a dais, and on this dais stood a statue of a woman.​

It was a strange sight to behold in a temple of this particular brand.​

Her hands were together, clutched tightly to her chest. The statue wore a long, waving gown that extended past the edges of the dais, sweeping onto the floor. Dust gathered on her shoulders, but the light from torch extended up to a long crack that emanated through her face. The statue was a woman of a small frame, beautifully rendered in an epic scene to which the wind was blowing her hair perpendicular to the frame of the entryway. In her left closed hand she held a single thorn rose, and in her right she held a construct - seemingly a rendition of a Jedi's lightsaber.​

Her facial expression seemed sad and somber.​

Tsavong stood for a minute to gaze upon it, and then approached the dais. He wiped away a handful of dust from the plaque below.​

"Here lies Bethany Kismet."​

Tsavong quirked an eyebrow. Was this woman a Jedi? Sith?​

Why did she have a statue in a temple of the Dread Lord?​

Dismissing the statue, Tsavong progressed further into the Obelisk.​