Distant Early Warning

[Darth Osano]

KORRIBAN
THE TOMB OF AJUNTA PALL

The Valley of the Dark Lords had been picked clean centuries ago. One of the few reasons left to visit the area was for sentimental reasons, to marvel and meditate at the resting places of various Sith Lords. This was not what brought Maleagant to the area. He did not anticipate the spirit of Ajunta Pall would be overly keen to commune with a mere acolyte, nor would any of the spirits interred next to him. The Sith Lords who still lived, however, might at least humor Maleagant. [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] was in the process of making a pilgrimage through all of the Sith Worlds. This valley on Korriban was among his first stops and the tomb of Ajunta Pall one of the last he would visit on this planet.

Technically speaking, this was not a "good" idea, as some would call it. Interrupting a Sith Lord in the middle of something important never sounded good on paper. But where there was little risk, there was also little reward. Perhaps Maleagant could have obtained some passing talent with the lightsaber if he only practiced among himself... Or he could hunt someone down who actually knew what they were doing. And then he would wait outside of the tomb's entrance like a nervous groupie, biding his time until the Sith Lord returned from his meditations. At which point, Maleagant would properly present himself.

He knew little about Pyrrhus, save his name and that he was here. The odds of him being beheaded for his insolence therefor remained distressingly ambiguous. Fortunately, Maleagant had parked his shuttle nearby, so if he needed to run...

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Darth Pyrrhus had withdrawn from the galaxy, or at least seemingly so. It was quite the change from the trajectory his career had taken him towards up until this point. From a Sith soldier in the One Sith army and eventually one of its leading figures both before and after the fall of the Dark Lord, to stepping into the shadows and embracing a certain level of anonymity. His faith in united orders and empires had been shaken, much like his faith in the role of Dark Lord had been. Now his focus was more appropriately aimed at building himself up, not some temporary nation. Pyrrhus felt more in tune with the Dark Side now than ever before.

His time away had not been spent idle. His research had led him here. As the figure of Pyrrhus was beginning to reveal himself again, the return to Korriban became symbolic. His pilgrimage saw him visit the tombs of old. He remained within, locked in meditation as he looked to the future. He would have come here regardless of who possessed Korriban, but he took some pleasure in seeing the planet rightfully return to the Sith after temporary Jedi occupation. The Dark Side welcomed it. The Togruta Lord had a secondary agenda as well. There was something he was seeking. The many tombs on Korriban had of course long ago been stripped clean of anything of value, but perhaps some trace of it still lingered. If not in the realm of things physical then perhaps within the Force.

He opened his mind to welcome visions, anything that might be considered a clue worth pursuing. So far he had come up empty. His last stop had been the tomb of Ajunta Pall. It was also here he had remained the longest. Perhaps it was an unwillingness to come up empty-handed, or perhaps it was the Force leaving him with a sense that there was something more to this place.

The Force rejuvenated him, the Dark Side becoming his only nourishment as he abandoned both sleep and food. It would not do in the long term, of course, but for a few days he felt confident he could manage. On the fourth day his persistence was rewarded. He had seen glimpses of something. Someone had come here, long, long ago. Perhaps seeking the very thing he was, or perhaps simply looking for anything of value at all. Things had not gone according to plan, and they had been betrayed by their own. A small battle ensued. Their bodies became offerings to Ajunta Pall, forever consumed by the tomb. As Pyrrhus had expected, what he sought would not be found on Korriban. But at the very least he had trail to follow. Not everyone had perished in the battle. No doubt he would meditate more on this in the days to come.

Finally the tall Togruta emerged from the depths of the fallen Sith Lord's final resting place. Back on the surface he found that he was no longer alone. That was unexpected. His thoughts and purpose had been so focused and channelled to this one quest that he had not even been aware of the stalker. How long had he waited? A question of more importance, however, was what were his intentions? Was it someone seeking to challenge him? It did not feel like that, but that did not make it impossible. He fully expected the individual in front of him to explain himself. He was a stranger to him. Pyrrhus remained on guard. Perhaps it was fortunate for Maleagant that Pyrrhus did not re-emerge empty handed. The vision did put him in a decidedly better mood.

"Who is it that blocks my path?"

​

[member="Maleagant"]​

 

[Darth Osano]

Maleagant was moderately surprised to see that Pyrrhus was a Togruta. Most Sith in the Order were human. With the notable exceptions of Thengil, the Younger Whiphid, and Tai Fa, of course. It also felt like there were remarkably more women present in this Order than there usually were on some days. That was just the state of things. Despite enduring most of his rearing in the Tion Hegemony, Maleagant had been spared from the disease of human supremacy, having been an alien himself and reminded of it constantly. So when Darth Pyrrhus exited the catacombs, Maleagant did what he had always been taught to do in the presence of a superior.

Grovel.

Extensively. But not the over-the-top groveling that Cristoff Dorn now enacted within the dark recesses of Carnifex's favorite castle, polishing goblets and skittering around like vermin. Maleagant's groveling was more respectable than that. Probably because he had not directly witnessed the eradication of his family and had not been gruesomely tortured to the point of breaking his spirit either. Unfortunately, the night of Maleagant's life was still young.

"Maleagant, your lordship." Maleagant said, bowing perhaps deeper than was necessary. As he continued speaking, after righting himself, his eyes were very notably averted. "I would seek to study the arts of saber play under your guidance, if it would please you."

Maybe not that respectable after all.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[member="Maleagant"]

Maleagant. A new name to his ears. Yet it had been a long time since he had directly involved himself with the training of Sith prospects. Around the time when the Sith Academy on Glee Anselm had been at its height he had made a point of making himself aware of notable apprentices and freshly minted knights. Those days lay behind him now. That did not mean he did not occasionally take an interest in a few individuals here and there. While he would not see them trained to serve as Sith warriors on the front-lines of an empire, he would create sparks across the galaxy that one day may forward the Sith cause on a whole. The galaxy was short on Sith, yet it held many pretenders. Any day he made a move that helped in favourably shifting the balance was a good day.

Pyrrhus knew not of his origin, his training, his associations. Yet somewhere along the path that had led him here he had picked up manners. Good stuff. "Would you?" Pyrrhus said. Surprised but not unamused. There were many questions linked to Maleagant's own. For all Pyrrhus knew he could've been sent by a rival who desired information on the way the Togruta fought. In Pyrrhus' arrogance he would play along if this was the case, convinced it would not aid whoever sought to destroy him. If it was the case Pyrrhus would learn who had sent him, and in turn make his own moves. "How fortunate that you would find yourself at the entrance of this tomb at this very moment then." It wasn't implausible. Pyrrhus' pilgrimage was no secret, and there were those of Korriban who would be aware. If Maleagant learned this on his own and subsequently sought Pyrrhus out, it spoke highly in his favour. If the acolyte had indeed been sent by someone, Pyrrhus hoped his remark would create some nervousness, or invoke another subtle response that would give it away.

Pyrrhus stepped further away from the entrance of the tomb, taking a few steps off to the side as if beginning to move about the acolyte in a half-circle. "What do you know? Do you have a weapon?" the tall Togruta inquired. It was the opinion of this particular Sith that one had to prove oneself worthy before being permitted to carry a lightsaber. If Maleagant did carry one, Pyrrhus would be harsher and more demanding. If he did not his worthiness would be tested, and Pyrrhus would determine whether he was fit to wield an elegant weapon that also in many ways served as their badge of office. But before all that, perhaps most importantly at this very moment, Pyrrhus wondered... "And why should my time be spent guiding you? What can you offer the Sith?"

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

Maleagant winced internally but kept a stony exterior. Yes, it was all very convenient that he had been lingering outside this tomb. He had not expected Darth Pyrrhus to comment on as much. If Maleagant had not felt like some sort of reckless fool or tottering fan before, he did now. Fortunately Darth Pyrrhus wanted to dwell on other things, have different questions answered, rather than kill him outright. Another good sign to go along with the fact that he had been allowed to explain himself in the first place, but by no means did it mean he was out of the woods yet. That wouldn't happen for a long, long while. Such was the price of consorting with Sith. Speaking of which, Maleagant had never personally considered what he could offer the Sith.

The Sith, to Maleagant, were more like... An arrangement. A loose club of associates that gathered only when it served their immediate benefits. And in that line of logic, they were also a means to an end. A tool to be used to take back what was his and his family's by right. This, he imagined, was not what Pyrrhus would want to hear- the fact that he had asked at all must have indicated to the Shi'ido that the Togruta had a loftier idea of the Sith than he did. To each their own. Perhaps he would adopt a similar viewpoint in time. For now, Maleagant removed his lightsaber from his belt and reverently presented it for the Sith Lord to see. He had taken it from another Sith initially, but had since gutted the innards and replaced them himself. The case was all that remained to indicate its status as stolen property.

A trophy.

"I have had token instruction, your lordship." He paused, considering his next words quite carefully. "I have been told I have a talent for the brokering of information. My networks run... Deep."

He left out the part about the "byzantine criminal empire spreading its tendrils throughout the Pentastar Alignment like the gluttonous, vile, money hoarding apparatus it is." You have to gage the opinions of your superiors on such matters before informing them of it. This was how the Dorns typically persisted... Not that it did them much good by their current standards, but Maleagant was working diligently to improve it.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Ah. So the one before him did possess a lightsaber. Pyrrhus then subsequently expected him to be worthy of wielding it. Of course he did not anticipate [member="Maleagant"] to be a master of the art, but he would see the raw passion and potential of a Sith hopeful. If not, well... Those things could always be beaten into him until the message and its meaning was received or until the recipient was no longer in a condition to receive any kind of message. Hopefully this one was of the pliable sort.

So far Pyrrhus did not pick up any sign that indicated that Maleagant's intentions were anything but what he said. While a certain air of deception always seemed to surround those who called themselves Sith, it did not seem to contain any plots against him. While he could of course not be certain of this, for now, he decided to play along. Either he could sharpen a blade of their order to be used against their enemies, or he could spring a trap. Both were almost equally entertaining. Now the Togruta Lord revealed his own weapon, as he pulled the curved hilt from within his dark robes. The bone handle fit perfectly into the firm grip of his rust-red palm.

Information. Certainly a useful asset. Though whether his networks would be of any use to Pyrrhus remained to be seen. He was not convinced they ran as deep as he believed, but Pyrrhus was always open to be pleasantly surprised. Not everyone had to reveal themselves to be little more than disappointments, although it was certainly a trend. "Perhaps you can be useful. Where are those networks set up?" Normally this wasn't something he expected to be given a straight answer, though perhaps the power balance between the two would intimidate the acolyte from withholding anything. Or perhaps the answer would be vague and elusive. In any case, hilt in hand, Pyrrhus seemed inclined to entertain Maleagant for now.

"And what would you use your abilities for? Your networks, your skills with the blade. What do you aspire towards?" Pyrrhus was forever the curious one. He preferred to be in control and know as much as possible about everything and everyone. Though suppose that was no different from anyone else, really. Yet he appeared to be taking an interest in the one before him, beyond mere formalities.

Finally, with his questions answered, Pyrrhus said: "Show me then, what it is you have learned, Maleagant." Should the answers to the questions posed before be found to be inadequate, what better time to ask follow-up questions than during their little demonstration. Fighting and talking seemed to be all the rage these days anyway.

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

"Here, in the Caldera." Maleagant answered with certainty.

That is, despite it being his first lie of the day. Maleagant did have some token informants scattered throughout the region, certainly. But nowhere near as intense as his concentrations in the Pentastar Alignment. It was a region far north from the Caldera. Formerly ruled by Mandalorians, but the strong Imperialist culture of the region persisted on the plants of Dubrillion, Bastion, Borosk, and Yaga Minor. Muunilinist was its beating economic heart of the region. It had its own flavor of criminal elements, though not as pervasive as here in the Outer Rim. That had been what made it so easy to set up shop in the region. They had only just barely sampled the sort of organized crime Maleagant had dealt with on a daily basis. Maleagant did not particularly enjoy lying in this instance, but the less others could attest about him to strangers, the better.

Who knew who what sort of company Darth Pyrrhus kept when not sulking around Korriban?

Speaking of company, what did Maleagant aspire towards? Time was that he was studying to become a playwright at a prestigious university on Galidraan. Things happen, though. Like the extermination of his entire family for the alleged sins of a distant relative. And now Maleagant was a criminal mastermind hellbent on revenge. What a galaxy this was to live in. "Vengeance, your grace." Maleagant replied, tone taut with tension. "My family was wronged by another. Somewhat egregiously." Dead. They were all extremely dead.

As instructed, Maleagant unclipped the lightsaber from his belt. The weapon snapped to life in his hand, a brilliant crimson blade, if a bit on the thin side. It seemed to indicate a compressed synthetic crystal, which typically meant a blade that was faster to swing. In the hands of someone who knew what they were doing, at any rate. Maleagant hardly seemed the learned type after he crossed the distance between him and the Togruta. From his first swing of the blade, which came in from the right, it might have been apparent Maleagant was only working with an unrefined form of Shii-Cho coupled with basic, rudimentary knowledge of Djem So.

Essentially, swinging like an idiot.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus had little cause to doubt [member="Maleagant"], and his interest in the field was not sufficient for him to pry further. The one before him said in the Caldera, and that was that. Pyrrhus’ field lay elsewhere. Should he ever need to conduct business in the area, or information from it proving useful with other projects, he might collect on the favour. But aside from that, he didn’t expect to receive much benefit in return. It served as curious entertainment as well as potentially forwarding the Sith cause.

Vengeance. He was not alone in that pursuit. It was a great motivator for many, although one frequently prone to sending people racing ahead wearing blinkers. If nothing else, it was a starting point. “And what then?” Pyrrhus wondered. Revenge could pass as anything from a goal to be achieved in a day’s work or be set as a life-time goal. However it rarely defined the individual completely. If Maleagant let it become who he was he would find himself lost and without purpose after. Ironically, it might even lead to him causing further pain and suffering to his family in the aftermath. “Are you your family?” It was a simple question of preference, really. Do you want to make your family great, or the Sith great? Delusions that they are the same aside, they hardly ever go hand in hand. Could he cast aside his heritage and see himself set apart from his kin, or would he forever be chained to their aspirations?

Of course, with Maleagant unclipping his lightsaber and proceeding to flail, Pyrrhus similarly had to ignite his own blade and respond. The idle chatter was made while the Togruta angled his blade in direct blocks, his tone of voice not seeming to suggest any exhaustion or great effort made on his part. Pyrrhus initially adopted the defensive form of Soresu, while he observed and analysed what he was presented with. If he had been an assassin sent to kill Pyrrhus, he masked it well. Mal’s knowledge was basic, yet positively ambitious. He wasn’t afraid to attack or try to adopt in moves and sequences from a form he was only beginning to understand. Pyrrhus could aid him in that.


Djem So seemed appropriate. The current scenario reminded him of his early days as a Sith Apprentice to the Butcher King, on the receiving end of devastating blows from lightsaber form V. It had been his then master’s favourite, and Pyrrhus had grown to know it well. The form was all about effective countering. It seemed only appropriate that that was how he proceeded. Pyrrhus grounded himself in his stance. Instead of a direct block he shifted his blade so as to make it slide away to the side and out of harm. Pyrrhus’ own blade bounced off, the Togruta putting in some extra force to push Maleagant’s blade away with further force before coming in with a fairly direct and telegraphed overhead strike towards his left shoulder. Something that would be true for this strike and the next; should the man in front of him be unable to get a block in place within time, Pyrrhus would halt his strike before dealing any fatal damage. Probably.

 

[Darth Osano]

Maleagant's blade was pushed out of the way, sending the Acolyte back a step. His lightsaber came up again just in time to catch Pyrrhus' blade before he was chopped in half from shoulder to hip. Normally protracted speech during combat wasn't Maleagant's style, but when a Lord asked a question he was bound to answer. Unfortunately, the heat of combat would cause the acolyte to lose the usual servile honorifics. A tragedy that few could be expected to cope with, but the story presses on regardless. The dirt crunched under Maleagant's feet as the force behind the Togruta's blow drove him in, but he managed to keep their sabers locked.

"They are all dead. Murdered." Maleagant grunted as he struggled to keep his block up. As expected, [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] was the stronger man by far. "So yes."

It did not take long for Maleagant to figure out that he wasn't going to be able to force Pyrrhus off of him, so more risky tactics would be needed. Was he aware of Tràkata as a maneuver? Certainly. Had he ever tried it? Not until this next instant. Maleagant appeared to shrink and lose ground as Pyrrhus would press forward, squirming under the force. The squirming was actually to position himself better to move out of the way when his lightsaber abruptly deactivated. If it worked, Pyrrhus' commitment to the strike would cause him to stumble or fall forward while Maleagant moved to dart off to the side in a hasty retreat. Although considering his status as an amateur, there was no grace, and Maleagant's departure had no shortage of his own stumbling.

Retreating was never a graceful thing, but eventually Maleagant turned himself around to prepare for another onslaught.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

All dead. Murdered. Well that was unfortunate. Probably. Whether it was a group of weaklings the Acolyte distanced himself from with disgust, or a fond unit of people who had unjustly been ripped away from him, surely the event fuelled his powers within the Dark Side. In death they made him stronger, with whatever powerful memory they left behind. Though Pyrrhus found it unlikely, [member="Maleagant"] might want to consider sending a fruit basket to whoever was responsible. For who would he be today without them? Not a Sith, and to Pyrrhus, that was the highest calling a being could serve.

The move the acolyte pulled on him next was one the Sith Lord was a fan of himself. It was not one he expected, however, to be in his arsenal, despite how simple the move was. Though he did not go tumbling forwards, head first into the ground, like a fool without foresight, the significant power put into the blow had his own blade fall into the void left by Maleagant’s deactivated saber. Though the fact that he had not intended to follow through with the swing with lethal force kept him from being too affected by it. That and hopefully years of training.

Regardless of how graceful or not Pyrrhus’ recovery was, Maleagant was successfully able to withdraw from the immediate engagement and gain some distance between the two. It was a spar firmly rooted in casual mode. With a smirk and a twirl of his ignited hilt, however, the Togruta moved forwards to engage again. In a few repeats of the jabs and cuts for each of his body zones, head, legs, arms, and torso all got their attacks dedicated to showing Maleagant both the fluidity of the attacks as well as the precision in the footwork. Just hammering away at him would do little to increase his knowledge if Pyrrhus did not add in a bit of an educational flair.

“Do you see?” Pyrrhus would conclude with, to seek verbal confirmation that he had been paying attention. “Djem So is an aggressive form. Powerful and aggressive. It relies on the wielder’s physical strength to overwhelm their opponents with a barrage of strikes. The aim is to keep the enemy off-balance and position them for the finishing stroke that will end the fight. Even on defense it is an aggressive form, as it seeks to use counter attacks to shift the balance back in its own favour, rather than direct blocks or parries.”