The Occult, Occluded, on Occupied land

Korriban was twisted.

Through the deepest valleys, arid plains and broken mountains, the Light had made its mark on the world after several years, and what Sith remnants that remained in hiding or occasionally visited could feel the sickening press of the light in their souls.

Among those who would be very familiar with the sensation were the survivors of the Sith-Imperial Historic Conservation Society. Hiding out in the mountains under the direction of their Hierophant Grand Moff Niir Vane, they gathered their artifacts and personnel deep in the heart of the jagged, broken mountains, awaiting a time when they could rejoin their Sith comrades. Under Vane's direction they had ignored all messages and messengers from the survivors of the Sith Order to re-emerge with their not-inconsiderable numbers, wealth and influence, having gathered up thousands of soldiers, acolytes and expert philosophers of the Sith among the non-Force Users of the Empire.

Kalzok was here to change their mind.

The Dark Thaumaturge trudged through a windswept mountain pass, unfazed by the storm of stones on the wind as they bounced off his robes. The Loremaster had changed much since he last stepped foot here, becoming a Lorekeeper of the Tsis'Kaar through offering his arcane knowledge, vast stores of treasure and relics and the thousand or so soldiers under his command. But Darth Ophidia asked for more; the Dark Lady was not easily satisfied with only that. If Kalzok wished to prove his new role as Loremaster of the Sith, he would need to offer much, much more. And what better place to start than to turn the Society to her cause.

Kalzok stopped, his body a small silhouette against the vast mountainside, its form perched on an unmaintained mountain path. So high up was he that he could feel the pressure of the air change on what was left of his skin, but perhaps that was only because of his... new form.

The Thaumaturge floated towards the cliffside, reaching out with his arms. Defiled fabric drooped off his arms, flapping against the wind, seemingly with an intelligence of its own. Kalzok reached out, his senses penetrating the thick rock face. He stopped when he felt it: a hidden entrance. His arms contracted inward at an unnatural angle, and the rock groaned in pain as the secret entrance tore open, boulders and rocks were thrown off the mountain. Before the dust was blown away in the wind, Kalzok activated a beacon, hammering it into the mountainside before he floated onward.

The path reeked of the deep earth; it wound through the rock, twisting and turning, yet clearly artificial. Wide enough to march five men abreast, a flattened floor and carefully formed natural supports. Evidence of people passing through here began to show as Kalzok continued onward; scraps of fabric, metal shavings, and, using his enhanced senses, the lingering smell of living beings. This was a sealed-off side entrance into the hidden cave system, and he did not expect anyone to detect his intrusion just yet.

The path led to a solid wall, but Kalzok knew better. It too was a false wall meant to seal up an unused exit. With a mere application of the Force the wall fell in, breaking open, allowing him to float through. As he pushed through the dust, he found himself in a truly cavernous, gargantuan, high chamber hewn from rock. It was filled with equipment, stacks of boxes, discarded mechanisms, fuel cells and food crates strewn all over. It was almost as large as a starship, with hundreds of people milling about, moving equipment from what were clearly stripped-down starships. From the layout of the chamber he could tell that he had entered from a side entrance, a storage area-cum-shrine, where an ornate pulpit was put to rest surrounded by heaps of relics, scrolls, and other religious items. As if to confirm this, several acolytes were milling around in this section when he broke through, and they backed away in shock when Kalzok stepped through the ruined wall, as if their prayers had been answered. Several soldiers that had been standing guard nearby cursed and immediately aimed their guns at him. Their armour marked them clearly as Sith-Imperial Legionaries, and they bore the colours of the Society on their broken armour and the weapons they pointed at Kalzok.

"You will not be required to use those weapons."

"Apologies, but we don't take orders from you, my lord," the lead centurion called out from behind a barricade.

Rushed footsteps echoed from behind one of the pathways that cut into the large stacks of equipment and boxes. A few seconds passed before Kalzok's target came into view.

"Hierophant Grand Moff Niir Vane," Kalzok dipped his head in respect, his robes making an unnatural fluttering sound that set the soldiers' teeth on edge.

"Lord Kalzok. Is this how you intend to make your entrance?

"I took the fastest means of eggress to contact you."

"We do not wish contact with the outside anymore. You are here to convey a message?"

"At the behest of the Dark Lady Ophidia." His voice was strange and hollow, floating out from under his robes.

Vane curled her lip in disdain.

"I have already told Ophidia, we will not partake in her foolishness. I am loyal to her and the Order, but this..."

"The Tsis'Kaar will need every resource to guard the legacy of the Sith."

"Already fighting for scraps? Save your breath. We will not pledge ourselves to any of the scavengers for the Sith throne. Least of all, at the request of the likes of yourself," the Grand Moff turned from Kalzok, exiting the antechamber. Her tone made it clear the conversation was over, even as a crowd began to gather.

Kalzok supposed her reaction was no surprise, and that, further, Ophidia would not be surprised at Vane's reaction to Kalzok. He had always been an absent member of the Society. The only thing separating him from the 'paper Hermits' of its membership was that the Spine Lord occasionally deigned to share his excavation findings with them. Had it not been for that, Vane would likely have not met with Kalzok face-to-face.

"You would do well to listen clearly to the Dark Lady's proposal before making a decision."

Vane turned on her heel, staring into Kalzok's lamp-lit eyes.

"And why should I, 'Lord' Kalzok? You are not one of us. Not one of the Society, and given your treacherous delving into inferior traditions, too close to being a heretic of the Sith. Those in our Society not blessed to touch the Force have known what it means to be Sith far more than you.

"I have dedicated my life to the preservation and survival of what makes us Sith. I will not throw my life's work into the hands of yet another warlord unable to appreciate it. Ophidia's bat-headed plan to involve herself in the succession and risk all we have managed to preserve is nothing more than megalomania and short-sighted idiocy. The Galaxy has already discarded us, more focussed on a soulless shell-mockery of true Imperialism, or of the twisted mongrels of the Maw. The Sith must endure, and I will do all it takes to prevent our traditions from falling into the hands of the short-sighted and self-destructive."

Once, Kalzok might have agreed. He would have washed his hands of the Sith Order's business and cut his losses. He might have deferred to the Moff's expertise. He might have squirreled himself away on a forgotten moon to meditate and catalogue and study. Kalzok watched as many more began to join the crowd that stood a respectful distance from the others. He could see in their eyes the exhaustion, the lost gazes.

But Kalzok was no longer that man. He was on Odavessa. He saw with his storm-bled eyes the insanity and self-destruction that the Eternalites were willing to go. An entire fleet, in the midst of a death struggle, turning its guns on its only world as an act of... what? Spite? The vestiges of the great Sith Empire a charred husk, its people scattered into the winds again, and worse still, its main leaders immediately going at each others' throats. Something had to change. A hint of his old humanity slipped into his voice:

"You did not burn in the inferno of Odavessa, Grand Moff. You did not feel on your skin the burning folly of the Parasite Imperator, nor the mad screams of the damned as the last refuge of the Order evaporated into so much stellar dust. You talk of preserving the Sith, but that can only be done if action is taken."

Vane could hardly keep the scorn from her voice. It was clear what she thought of Kalzok's change of heart.

"To hear such words come from you... have you no shame, hypocrite?"

"You are not wrong to doubt me. Once I too was blind. To think that being Sith was merely an act of scholarly preservation, cataloguing of lore. But I do know, and have always known, what it means to be Sith. And so does the Society."

Kalzok stepped towards the gathered crowd, their tired, hungry faces staring at Kalzok but avoiding the menacing glare of his shrouded face. Their eyes still burnt with hate for the enemy that drove them into exile. Perhaps he could work with that. His voice travelled out to reach out across the chamber.

"Loyal servants and masters of the Dark Side, you who would be Sith. I ask of you, is this the meaning of the Sith? To hide in fear? To wait for nothing? The Moff would have you cower and scurry from the Galaxy until you are but bones in a forgotten tomb."

The Moff scoffed aloud.

"How, pray tell, is your plan any different? Does not Ophidia plan to hide and strike from the shadows, with the added problem of inviting retribution? How can you denigrate the protective power of shadows while advocating for your plan?"

Kalzok spread his arms towards the crowd, seemingly ignoring Vane.

"You are none of you strangers to the shadows, nor unfamiliar with patience. I do not say that these are useless tools, only that they must be used for a worthy purpose. The moff would have you wait passively, in the hells that you have already traversed, awaiting a sign that will never come. But I offer you purpose," Kalzok continued, watching the crowd warm up to the idea of getting the hell out of this planet.

"I tell you the sign has already come. The Dark Lady Ophidia is the Tsis'Kaar: guardian and keeper of the Sith. I offer you a role by her side, custodians of our glorious legacies; duty and purpose, one untainted by the grasping claws of the House of Zambrano or the inane whims of the post-sapient Worm God. The Sith have always ruled our destinies, not huddling in fear, clutching at scraps in squalor, in the shadow of the hated Jedi," Kalzok motioned to his surroundings. A murmur rippled through the crowd. Technically what he said was untrue; the Sith had gone through every up and down throughout the millennia. But history was there to be manipulated and tailored, as suited the purposes.

Kalzok pulled back his arm in fluid motion and pointed at the scriptural pile on the pulpit. It burst into flames, arcane blue and unnatural green. The stele on which it stood began to warp and melt in the unnatural heat, its chiseled words deforming.

"NO! The sacred texts!" Vane rushed over.

"See the folly of your one-time leader! Being Sith is more than the scratching of parchments, the chiseling of stone!" Kalzok's voice boomed across the area, his voice carried by the Force.

"It is hunger. It is hate. It is the drive to conquer and become a god. It is not the trappings of empire or arcane lore of the Worm, nor slavish devotion to the Demiurge. It is power. That is why the resources of the Society must be put in the hands of one who understands that. And through her guidance, and proper dedication to the Sith idea..." he tilted his head to stare into the flames.

"Anything is possible."

Kalzok reached out with his hands again,

The fire sputtered, its flames twisting into itself. The heat and colour of the conflagration seemed to change, distorting in unnatural ways as the Spine Lord bent it to his will. The flame curled and seemed to snap out of existence. The blackened parchement unfurled in fits and starts, its colouration changing as the burns reversed, revealing again their text. In a short while they were whole again.

The Grand Moff glared spitefully at Kalzok.

"Is this mere act of thaumaturgy meant to impress me?"

"No. It is intended to make a point."

"If it was intended to remind me that you could snap my neck with a thought, it has nonetheless failed to change my mind," she reiterated.

"Though you might be too short-sighted to understand the point being made, the Acolytes, Sages and soldiers of the Society do not."

Kalzok watched in a feeling akin to satisfaction as Vane turned to the crowd, studying her shock as the crowd began to take apart their equipment and pack them back into the cargo boxes. The message was clear: they were getting our of here.

"We cannot do this!" she shouted frantically, rushing to and fro to stop them.

"Sorry Hierophant, but we're not waiting to die here!" one of the mechanics shouted at her. A Sage, recognisable by his robes, stopped stuffing his belongings into a crate to call out to Vane in a heavily accented voice.

"I suggest you apologising to the Spine Lord and make humble, Hierophant Vane. There is role for you to guide us under Ophidia."

But the Grand Moff would not listen. Rage filled her voice as she shouted: "Guards, arrest anyone contravening my orders!"

But the Sith troopers did not react. The Sith Legionary Centurion, silent until now, stepped forward.

"You've made your point, m'lord. The Society's soldiers are ready for your orders."

Kalzok gave a slight nod.

"Maintain perimeter security. Free hands will assist those packing up. You take orders from my men, for now, centurion; we will sort out chain of command once we are off Korriban."

From the corridor that Kalzok entered from, dozens of his own soldiers and technicians, having followed from the beacon he planted, flooded into the chamber, seamlessly joining the Society's members to break down the base and prepare for off-world departure. A tribal warrior brought up the rear, and he looked to Kalzok.

"Shavak here will lead the efforts to prepare for departure while I attend to other matters. I appreciate your understanding, Centurion."

Vane cursed and rushed towards Kalzok blaster in hand.

"You cannot do this!-"

Kalzok raised his arm and snapped her neck with the merest application of the Force.

"Yes, I can."