From Dust

[Nisha Decrilla]

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Korriban was as bleak as she remembered it being, and that was before its recent bombardment, but there was a pull here that no sith could resist, no matter how much they despised it. A call from the sith of old drawing you to the back to your roots. If the Order was to progress, they needed to remember where it all began. The newest recruits, would need educating, and where better?

Well, one could answer anywhere that wasn't on the outskirts of Silver Jedi space, but where was the fun in that?

A rock beneath Anaya's foot crumbled, adding a fresh supply of dust to the air and her scowl deepened. She was already regretting her decision to be dropped off at a distance, so she could make the pilgrimage on foot. Her fingers gently touched the side of her comlink as she contemplated calling for a pick up, but the wind dropped a little and ahead of her, she could see the outlines of the ruined academy. Her hand slid away and she quickened her pace.

She passed beneath shattered statues and jumped over broken columns that littered what had once been a grand path to the temple. Closer now she could see great holes in the pyramids sides that granted her sight of the many levels within. Whatever treasures had donned these monuments of stones had long been scavenged. Though, she thought as she passed by a half buried skeleton bleached by the sun, they were not without thier casualties. A smile found it way to her lips.

A great shadow passed over her, drawing her eyes upwards once more. Her smile widened. Towering kilometers above her, the pyramid protruded from the valley wall. Even in its state of disrepair, it made her shiver with awe. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling her time here. Competition was harsh, and the lessons were cruel with deaths a common occurrence, some had been by her own hand. Even then, she had displayed a knack for driving daggers into people's back to further her own advancement.

Opening her eyes, she forced all brooding and reminiscence from her mind and reached for her comlink. "Alastair," she breathed into the device, the clipped tones of her Captain answered instantly, adding to her good mood. It always gave her pleasure to think that Alastair waited with bated breath, just to hear her voice. "Summon [member="Tirdarius"] for me won't you? Be polite."

Slipping the commlink back into her belt, Anaya removed her cloak, letting it drop to the floor and opened herself to the darkside. She let its rhythm fill her entire being and began to dance.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Anaya Fen"]

I had never imagined to once again stand in this place.

Few Sith had, it was fair to imagine. Oh, certainly there were those who spoke of a glorious return to power, of the depths of revenge they might stoop to should there ever come a time when the Jedi might be forced from their control of this place, their forces repelled and monuments destroyed, their weakness exposed for all to see. But it had all seemed a fantasy: a child's wish wrapped up in a darker desire, something far more malevolent.

And yet now it was a reality: the Jedi driven back, the Sith homeworlds reclaimed, once more occupied by those who were both servants and masters of these shadowy planets. Many had died as a consequence - more, certainly, than had been expected, but such was the reality of war. The bombing of a civilian population by the Jedi...that much had been a surprise to many. It only served to show how desperate the Jedi must be, to engage in an atrocity against beings that had nothing to do with out conflict. Those deaths had simply added to the darkness here: that silent whisper that spoke of torment, agony, death. Each life extinguished serving to deepen the dark that resides here.

It was for that darkness that the Sith had ever chosen to reside here: but for that, this was a dusty, ancient, unpleasant little backwater world, bereft of value save for the artifacts buried in the tombs beneath the surface, remnants of ancient Sith long gone. The darkness that reigned here, though, it was very much alive: powerful, hungry, always wanting more. And the Sith had ever been inclined to indulge that hunger, if only that they might tap into such a vast well of tempestuous energy, ever to add to their own power.

To walk the surface of the planet once more, to set foot on sacred Korriban... it was both something he had hoped for and yet sought ever to avoid. And why not? None who step here can escape recognition of what this place is. The darkness flowed through him the way water might flow through a stream, offering insight and impression of long-forgotten horror, something only the Force might recall. A lesson in the history of the dead. It was one that none of the Sith who stood here were likely to forget: a warning against failure, against weakness, against falling so deeply into the darkness that you would but become a channel for that silent rage. Such is the fate of those who cannot embrace the dark without being swallowed by it.

The summons that had accompanied his presence here was a surprise, one he had not expected to receive, a courteous missive from a being he had long imagined either dead or simply absent, her presence in Sith affairs having long been silent. But such is our way now, is it not? Beings like Carnifex were content to be the outward faces of the Sith, the threat directed towards those who would challenge them, but there were far more possessed of a subtle disposition, the type to work quietly behind the scenes without others noticing. She is one among them, Tirdarius reflected, booted footsteps echoing softly across the stone corridors of the slighted Temple, heading towards that concentrated nexus of energy he had sensed approaching. And now she is here.

The darkness of the battered facility gave way to light: dusty, dirty light, all that might be given off by the local sun, that which had turned this world into a desolate place long before the Sith had taken custody of it. It leaked in through the torn opening that separated the Temple from the warmer climes beyond. He stepped through, eyes adjusting to the presence of bright sunlight, not warm and rejuvenating, but luminescent nonetheless. The sight that greeted him was something else altogether.

He watched as her nimble steps moved her across the soft sand beneath her feet, every moment a whisper of energy surging through her, the darkness caught up in her dance. The Twi'lek had lost none of that potent grace she had so often demonstrated: elegant both in motion and in dealing death, equally dextrous at both, and with all the predatory poise of an Akk Dog preparing to pounce. Here is not a woman to be trifled with. The abandon with which she threw herself into her dance was evidence of her mastery: she did not fear anything here. Nor should she.

"Do you dance from joy, or simply reflect that of the Force, at finding you returned home?", he asked calmly, voice carrying across the dead courtyard at an intonation designed not to be threatening. The Human sat on one of the fallen columns that littered the courtyard: dead stone resting against dead sands, on a world alive only to those who could see past the obvious. "This place calls to you, doesn't it? Perhaps it reminds you of old times?"

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya did not answer immediately, so immersed in the dark side of the force, it was difficult to separate herself from it to do something as trivial as speaking. Still, there would come a time when she would become part of the darkness that oozed from this place, and today was not that today.

She stopped dancing, not abruptly, but gently, dance slowed into a graceful stride as she moved towards [member="Tirdarius"] "I dance to meditate." She answered his first question simply, pursue her lips slightly in thought. "That, and it brings me joy."

She settled herself onto the column he was resting on, paying no notice to personal space, as always, Anaya flashed him a devilish grin as their thighs brushed.

"Korriban calls to all of us, does it not?" She cast a glance towards the huge structure once more. "I do miss the old days though, when I was bold, reckless and full of a desire to prove myself worthy of..." she smiled and shrugged, "well, to this day I'm not sure what I wanted to be worthy of." She settled her gaze back on the Sith Lord at her side.

"Over a decade has passed since the Empire was at its strongest and once again we find ourselves home and looking to rebuild. We are pinned between false Jedi and tin cans and yet, those who wish to learn the ways of the Sith have no ground to go to."

She rose from the column and strode slowly towards the broken entrance of the academy. "Would you like to help me change that?"

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Anaya Fen"]

No place to go. That wasn't quite true, though, was it? Perhaps the Sith had no bastion of note, few places where they might congregate, but such had often been to their detriment in the past: too many of their impulsive kind cloistered together, a pressure cooker that set tensions rising and passions rising, with violence oft being the only release that might reduce it down to manageable levels. Sith Lords challenge one-another for supremacy, Acolytes murder one-another when seeking prestige, and it is always the whole that suffers. Would it be beneficial to bring them all together once more?

He remembered the Temple here back during the Empire's days: a dark bastion focused on developing the best and the brightest of those who sought to become Sith, breaking them into tiny pieces and stomping all over those, to see who might yet ascend from such depths to become something more. And watching so many of them fail to live up to the potential that they promised. The darkness was fed by the deaths of those poor inadequates, the spark of their lives extinguished by those who sought someone more viable for the title of 'Sith'. It had ever been a time when the Sith had struggled forward, adding new blood to the ranks and working hard to see the promise of the Sith become realised. Could such a time come again?

Anaya offered that again, he knew: she would see a return to the old ways, the sort of Sith that had existed in the times of the Empire, before the One Sith had turned such a massive power into a disaster that had left their Order broken and dispersed throughout the Galaxy. If we create a home to go to, perhaps the others will return, and we shall once more return to being a force in the Galaxy, not merely a disparate remnant of former glories. That had both merit and dangers, but no Sith would flinch away from the latter. It's a possibility we must explore.

"You hardly need to ask," Tirdarius observed tartly, standing up in so doing, allowing his long robes to flow around him softly as he followed her towards the Temple entrance. "Our duty has always been to the Sith, and I'll do whatever it takes to see things return to what they were."

Her appraisal of their situation was succinct, but accurate: the Mandalorians on one side, the Jedi on the other, both imagined the Sith sufficiently crushed that their remains might be destroyed at will, and that complacency had created an opening that had not entirely existed before. As was true in Bane's time, we have an opportunity to regroup, marshall our strength without those others looking over our shoulders, and emerge stronger than we were. Anaya was right: that such time had passed was an opportunity that they might exploit. And why not? Our mandate has not changed.

"You would start here, rebuild our Temple and populate it with hopefuls aspiring to serve the Sith?", he asked, raising an eyebrow, moving at a pace steady enough to bring him alongside her. It amused him to imagine that the reckless woman he had known had become more visionary than before, but perhaps that was the natural conclusion to her path: as the reckless warrior grew, perhaps a woman more inclined to build something had emerged. "What would you have me do?"

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya inclined her head in affirmation of his first question, eyes raking the structure above them. For a moment, she allowed herself to look back on how she had seen it the first time. So awed by its size and the energy that rolled from it, she had truly believed that there was nothing to bring the Sith down. It had been a wonderful journey, the shift of power at its head from one Emperor to the next, its rapid expansion across the galaxy, and the war! She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling happily.

[member="Tirdarius"] brought a smile to her face with his question. What would she have him do? If it were truly up to her to control such things, what would she have the human do for her? He, like her, had acted in the shadows, pulling strings where it was necessary, looking for the best solution for the survival of the Sith. One could say they had failed. That all their plans had been folly, which, strictly speaking, when talking in terms of the Empire, was correct.

But the Sith were still here, were they not?

Anaya linked her arm through Tirdarius's, her eyes swinging to settle upon his face. He wasn't as young as she recalled, but his eyes were still bright, she could still see the many cogs working away, analysing everything around them, analysing her, just as he always had. "I propose a partnership. You've a keen mind, Tirdarius, and I, a cruel touch. Can you imagine what we could do with this?" she gestured a hand towards the academy, not taking her glittering eyes off him. "We would be co-heads of the Sith Academy. Together, we will remake those who enter and feed the next generation of Sith. But, we will not restore this place, not in the true sense of the word." She snapped her eyes back to the entrance, the pool of darkness that they were almost upon. "For too long, we have seemed solid in the belief that we cannot lose, yet we have lost. Time and time again. I want that to be remembered, by us, so that we may learn from those mistakes. We seek victory in order to break our chains, but it is not easy as these children might assume."

She slipped her arm from his as the vast doorway towered above them, large enough to slip a couple of light freighters into. At this angle, they could no longer see top of the structure but even the door succeeded in making one feel insignificant. Coming to a halt, she turned to face Tirdarius completely. "What you chose to do within that idea, is entirely up to you, though I would like to hear your thoughts."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Anaya Fen"]

A cruel touch. Once he might have imagined such a thing to be an unnecessary sadism, best applied only to those who crossed the Sith, but time had taught him that dark acts were often necessary to ensure that darker ones were not committed by those unprepared to cope with the adversity facing them. If they cannot handle what is thrown at them, how can we expect the others to overcome true obstacles when they stand in their path? Anaya's...creativity in that respect was always something he had admired, though as for his reasoning, he didn't dare to fathom it.

Anaya had a point, of course: the Sith had become complacent too often, and this had left them in the state they now existed in. Hiding in the shadows, rarely gathering in one place, spread across the Galaxy. Hardly a fitting legacy for the Sith, certainly less than they had been, and a state of affairs that desperately required a reversal. To create a central nexus in which we might all gather...that would certainly be key to such a move.

"Rebuilding might draw the attention of the Jedi once more," he remarked calmly, not perturbed by the idea, but well aware that gathering in strength would make them a target once more. The Jedi will not be satisfied until they have wiped every trace of our kind from existence. That had been proven obvious by recent events, and he had no reason to imagine that they would not take advantage of any move they made to bring the Sith back into force. "We cannot see it as simple a matter as to repopulate this place once more."

Though perhaps she would relish such an event. Anaya's enjoyment of battle had been well known among the Sith of old: as with her dancing, it was a blood-soaked meditation, a means of cleansing body and soul through simple immersion in the energies of the Force, with life and death in the balance. Were the Jedi to descend on this place, he had little doubt that Anaya would draw her lightsaber and move among them with all the fury of a tempest, shedding their blood as a lesson to all would profane Korriban's sacred surface with their Jedi allegiance. And I would undoubtedly join her in this. But such would not rebuild their Academy, nor bring other Sith in greater numbers to the planet.

"To bring this place back to life is a worthy goal, but one we must be careful with," the Sith Lord observed reflectively. To move without care would only see the place extinguished before the Sith within were ready to move as a power to be reckoned with, and that would place much in jeopardy. Anaya's ruthless reputation would serve them well, if it came to protecting the ancient place, but they would need more than that to craft something might endure. "Beginnings are such fragile things, don't you agree?"

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya had to catch herself as irritation flashed across her eyes. A blip in her emotions, instantly stamped out. This was why she had chosen him, his caution would be leash she needed to temper her own rashness, without it being controlling. Let the Jedi come, let them fall upon my saber as they once did. Of course, this would serve no purpose other than to make me feel better, but all the same...

"Not really, my dear. If I did, I wouldn't have pulled Calina out of her tank sooner than planned and let her first sight be the decapitated head of her carer." She frowned for a moment, mocking creeping into her eyes. "Perhaps, that's where I went wrong." She snapped her fingers. She knew full well that that had simply been the first of many mistakes she had made with her daughter, but at the time, she spent more time talking to the voices in her head than she did the people around her, so as far as she was concerned, her sickness was at fault, and not her. Or, more to the point, it was all [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s fault.

She shook her head. "You're point is valid. We cannot paint a target on this place unless we are able to defend it. The young are enthusiastic, but inexperienced, I'd rather the next generation didn't die on account of the fact that we were hasty in our efforts. Very well, we will take precautions. Defences, warning systems and escape routes, but we will likely need help for that. What else do you propose?"

[member="Tirdarius"]

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

| [member="Anaya Fen"] |​

The anger that flashed through her was clear enough to his eyes: an amusing insight into a woman that was as dangerous as she was emotionally agile. Ever tempestuous, it's no wonder she ascended to the lofty heights of a Sith Lord. Nobody would be foolish enough to cross her twice - assuming they survived their first attempt. Knowing he had provoked her for even a moment was amusing to him, understanding that her umbrage would take deadly form if she felt he had offered her insult. But she knows better than that. Was that not why she had summoned him?

He did not know of the person Anaya spoke of, nor had any insight into what she meant by a 'tank', but many of the Sith were inclined towards experimentation with the Force, playing fast and loose with dangerous powers that often spiralled beyond their control. To hear that Anaya had done so quite frankly surprised him: she had often struck him as a lethal pragmatist, dangerous to a fault, but not one to dabble in the deeper arts, since her own served her perfectly well. If it is an enemy, kill it. If a friend, exploit it. If neither, force it to serve. It was a simple creed, and one he could well understand. Though it is a lonely thing to always distrust those around you.

Perhaps her words simply reflected a change in approach. He would judge that over time, however: there was no point getting involved in matters that were irrelevant to his agenda.

"We will need others to aid us in this, credits to finance it, but the subtlety to do so without drawing undue attention," he observed, turning back to the matter at hand. Large numbers of contractors heading towards Korriban would be easily noticed by anyone paying attention, and he was not naive enough to imagine that the Jedi had simply left. "The facade before us will serve, however: an empty Temple, a long-abandoned remnant of what was. Leave it as such, and nobody will think to look closer."

Yes...that would be the way. We construct our facility in plain view of the old, but concealed from prying eyes. The Jedi will look at the Temple and find nothing but dust and empty corridors, seeing nothing but what we want them to see. But the true Temple will be hidden from view, out of their sight, so that we will see them, but they will not know of our presence until we want it to be known. What better way to honour the ancient ways than by practising them?

Perhaps that was what stirred Anaya's anger: she had ever hungered for Jedi life, wanted to see them drown in it, that lust for violence stirring within her, hard to restrain, so easy to unleash. She would not want to hide, would not wish to remain shadowed when enemies walked the surface of their sacred world. Should would water it with their blood, the price of their sacrilege. To ask her to consider an alternative would not sit well with her, of course: he asked that she deny herself. But that it what we teach here, is it not, Anaya? Tell me what you desire, so I may deny you... She had learned that as an Acolyte, but it was ever a harsh lesson.

"You know the others may oppose us in this," he remarked, referring to the other Sith Lords that held domain within the Caldera. Korriban was the sacred home of the Sith: Dromund Kaas had been the political face, Ziost had been a trial, but Korriban was ever the ancestral legacy of one Sith generation to another: a poignant lesson in the harshest of realities. "We would be foolish not to approach them: enlist them as partners, and we may gain their aid. Ignore them, and we court their disapproval."

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Subtlety was something Anaya was good at. Oh yes, she was emotionally turbulent, reckless and up until recently, prone to episodes of insanity but she was also sly, manipulative and very good at not being seen when the time required it. Outbursts and bloodlust had a time and a place. Besides, she had spent the best part of a decade running a smalls fleets of smugglers, along with a string of bars across the galaxy and ear and eyes along with them. Since her exile from the Sith Empire Anaya had sat in the shadows, building and biding her time.

She looked around at the ruins, a smile on her face. Desolate as it may seem, she wold be proud to have it as her crowning jewel and the mark of her return to the fray. But to have to hide for longer still from the Jedi, to be unable to strike at their hearts tear all they had from them, that...that was asking a great deal of an animal like Anaya who'd been caged for far too long. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She would find another way to ease the burning need to create chaos. She exhaled slowly through her mouth and opened her eyes.

She fixed [member="Tirdarius"] with a 'do-we-have-to?' look. She had spent her fair share of time 'allied' with other sith. Emperors among them, and during such time she had no fixed seat in mind, so long as it was the next level up. Now, the tables would be turned and she would be the one with 'allies'. "I can't tell you how much that prospect fills me with joy." she replied sarcastically. "You are right, however, we will need to approach them and seek their input. I'd rather we didn't call them partners, but we will have to make a few deals." A flash of recollection and her expression hardened.

"Under no circumstances will I approach Kaine Zambrano." There was no option for debate on the matter. The next and last time she would see Kaine deliberately, it would be to kill him. She turned her back on Tirdarius once more, moving deeper into the shattered academy. Anger pulsing off her in small sharp spikes. The mere thought of him managed to get her riled up. She didn't look back to see if Tirdarius was following, she simply assumed that he would. Not because he felt the need to, but because he wanted to observe.

The more he would observe, the more he would learn and the better he would know how to manipulate her. She had to control herself, sooner, rather than later. Their steps echoed across the vast entrance hall and somewhere in its depths the growls of a Tuk'ata echoed back. The hall stretch deep into the darkness, but Anaya didn't need to see to remember where it all was. She remembered it all, the corridors bathed in gold, the open training hall where all could watch you triumph, or fail. The though of it all seemed to drive her anger away and her pace slowed until she finally felt able to be still again.

"Look at what they've done to it, Tirdarius." she said softly. Everything of value had been taken, right down to the huge marble slabs that had been the floor. She felt her hatred swell for the Jedi. "The students must see this as they enter. The must see what complacency earns, and they must hate those who were able to exploit it." Her hand found his upper arm, and she squeezed it in excitement.

"There is a vast maze of catacombs below. Old tombs, long stripped on their value and home to a vast majority of creatures large and small, but all perfected by the darkside. We could establish the academy beneath us. No building would be required, per say, perhaps some reinforcement but that can be done quietly enough."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

| [member="Anaya Fen"] |​

A slight grin crossed his features at the lack of warmth in Anaya's voice at the prospect of including the others. Like him, she had ever been more of a lone wolf: independent, fiercely loyal to her own causes, and even moreso to the Sith as a whole. She simply didn't like the others: they either did not go far enough in their dedication, or simply failed to live up to her expectations. And then there is Kaine... That particular relationship was far too complex for him to delve into - he knew enough of their messy personal lives to know better than to involve himself - but there was plenty more than mere apathy at the heart of it all.

He indeed followed her, in silence, after her outburst regarding Kaine. He had been expecting something of the sort, and felt it best not to comment. If they needed the help of the Zambrano's, they were in truly dire straits: though Kaine had access to funding and resources that likely dwarfed either of theirs, he knew well enough that Zambrano would view any such requests as a sign of weakness, and reject them outright. Provided he does not try to kill me for bothering in the first place. Tirdarius was in no mood to cross blades with the more aggressive Sith Lord, so other means would need to be sought.

The anger faded, as it so often had with Anaya: she was ever an emotional maelstrom, unpredictable and lethal in her moods, quickly shifting between one to another, leaving so many utterly unable to compensate, and therefore easily hers. It was a thing he had always admired about her: the way she might manipulate herself to therefore control others. They would dance willingly to her tune, or die by it. That selfsame ruthlessness had always been something to be wary of, but it was not he that had to be worried about it. Seeing this, I can only imagine she wishes to direct those energies now towards the Jedi once more.
He almost felt sorry for them.

"Complacency is ever the enemy that we must face," he remarked cooly, looking as she had suggested at the ruins of the Temple, noting the desecration of them. No stone left unturned, he mused with a touch of dark humour. "But it is our weapon to use, too: the Jedi will see this place and imagine it abandoned. How wrong they will be..."

The dangerous nature of her had ever concealed a cunning mind, and her thoughts about using the undercrofts and tombs beneath the Temple was a stroke of genius: undoubtedly there would be much work to do in clearing them of certain...influences, but doing so would provide them with plenty of room that would once more be put to better use than serving the ancient egos of long-forgotten Sith. The foundations of the new Sith would be built on the foundations of the old Temple: perfect synchronicity.

"Let it be done," he said quietly, his voice so soft that it was almost lost in the silence of this place, a whisper carried along by those dark energies that offered whispers of their own in the dark. "And let none who enter here ever do so without recognising the weight that hangs above their heads. Should complacency arise, let it come crashing down upon them, to bury their foolishness below the sands." He smiled faintly, his mind aflame with ideas, plans, considerations for the work that must be done. "Even this will serve the Sith."

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya shivered with delight, her lekku twitching in anticipation. Empires around them could rise and fall, but if they did this right, then no matter what new age game the newest generation of Sith wanted to play, their failures would not see this academy fall again. She became aware she was still gripping her companions arm, and gently released her grip, letting her arm drop by her side, but not before brushing his fingers with her own.

"We can keep building to a minimum by denying the students all that the desire. When they come here, I would see them stripped of all the bring and given nothing till they've earned it." She closed her eyes, "we will fill them with hate and with power and then we shall let them lose on the galaxy." Just think of the chaos they will cause!

They could have the catacombs cleared easy enough, there were, after all, plenty of Sith looking for something to kill, kidnap or mutate. This was a perfect oppurtunity for them all, and it worked in [member="Tirdarius"] and Anaya's favour. "Who shall we talk to first, hmm?"

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

| [member="Anaya Fen"] |​

Ah, that was ever the question: which Sith would be best drawn into this particular endeavour? In truth, he wasn't certain: there were plenty of options. Kaine wasn't among them, but only because Anaya would react most violently to his involvement, and there was little likelihood to the Sith Lord wanting to participate. As for the others...they were scattered around the Galaxy, no doubt each engaging in their private struggles for survival or dominance. Without the greater Empire, we must each establish our footholds where we can, and see them rise to allow us to challenge the chaos of the Galaxy once more. Which of them might turn away to lend aid to a project such as this?

Probably few, if any. That was no doubt why Anaya had summoned him: he was the one least likely to reject such a thing out of hand. As much as many of those neophytes who wish to study among the Sith are fit for little more than my contempt, we cannot allow the Order to stagnate in numbers or strength. They were not Jedi, to nurture their younglings, but the Sith still needed manpower to achieve the greatness it had once had: back in the days of the Empire that both of them could remember, when the Sith had stood as a dominant force.

"Perhaps it would be best if we first gather students: the Acolytes who would study here and benefit from the knowledge we might offer them," he remarked, thinking carefully, taking his eyes away from Anaya for a moment. It has never been our way to offer something for nothing, however. "If they wish to walk the Sith way, let them prove that they are worthy of it: let them work for us, earn their admission."

The suggestion that they might build beneath the old Temple was an excellent one, but entirely fraught with risk: those catacombs that lined the ancient citadel were not exactly...uninhabited. Deadly creatures steeped in the Dark Side, predatory and vicious; ancient traps designed to leave the unwary in agony; perhaps even the raging spirits of those whose souls were tied to this place through powerful ritual or long-forgotten atrocity, wishing nothing but suffering on the living, jealous as they were of that mortal coil. Such would be no easy task to deal with.

"The ones that survive might be worth teaching," he continued, offering the slightest of shrugs. Once he had fretted over the fate of such beings - not, their deaths simply proved that they were the wrong sort of material for the trials that would be ahead of them. And those who cannot survive such an initiation would be unworthy to take the Sith legacy forward. "The others...can find their tombs beneath the foundations of what we will build, their deaths contributing to what we do here."

At least, in that, they might serve some useful purpose.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Several weeks later...​

​

It had taken too long, though perhaps that was a matter of opinion that only she held, after all Anaya's patience has been somewhat short of late. She blamed the return of Voracitos and with him, memories of her shame. It was all she cold do to remind herself that she had survived. The she had risen despite losing everything. In a way, she owed him gratitude. For without him, she may not have found the strength she had now. Dusk had come early, with the sun sinking away beyond the canyon. A large fire held centrepiece in the camp, successful exterminators exchanging stories their voices a distant murmur.

The door to her tent had been pinned open so she could keep an eye and an ear on them, out of curiosity more than anything else. A hologram rose on the table in front of her, a 3D map of the catacombs. Once the mutated wildlife had been removed, scouts had been sent in to draw up the map that glittered before her. It was large than she had hoped for. Hundreds of chambers and antechambers spilling away from a huge central cavern all of which rested hundreds of feet below them. Naturally protected from orbital bombardment, and plenty of already hidden escape routes if need be. Anaya didn't enjoy the thought of having to escape or run from anything, but she hadn't survived for this long without having back up plans A, B and C.

Her fingers curled round the crystal glass as she sat back and brought the wine to her lips, enjoying a moment of triumph. The chair opposite her sat empty, a full glass of wine waiting for him. A quiet celebration between allies and a chance to discuss their next steps.

[member="Tirdarius"]

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

| [member="Anaya Fen"] |​

Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban, Horuset System

The tented encampment looked oddly incongruous when compared to the vast stone structures that littered the Valley, ancient tombs build to honour the dead that was interred within, along with the steep canyon sides that served to conceal the entrance to the ancient Temple that had been a Sith legacy lasting millenia. The portable shelters were all made from rough canvas, suitable only to keep out dust and that might be waterproof, were they used on a world that saw anything in the way of precipitation. Truth be told, these ones served only to provide a thin veneer of privacy for those within. Scarcely worth using, beyond the illusion they offer.

With no door upon which to knock, Tirdarius simply strode into the tent that he knew to be Anaya's: as much by virtue of her presence than by the fact that it was simply larger and more elegant than many of the more rough-shod ones that had been erected on the dusty plain. Even with the darkness that swirled around here, it was not difficult to detect that familiar presence, mildly impatient, ever tempestuous, perhaps simply eager to move forward and get things done. And there is anger there, still. The return of Voracitos and his dismissive manner at the trial for Maladon had clearly left residual feelings there. Hardly surprising. Murdering the traitor was not going to simply sweep aside her hatred of the Fat One.

Grey eyes took in the scene: the red-skinning Twi'lek reclining in a chair behind an ornate table, examining a hologram that hovered in a semi-transparent glow close to her eye level, the woman nursing a glass of liquid in clear contemplation. Undoubtedly fanning the flames of her anger, or at least that was his judgment of her inner thoughts. Anaya was ever a dangerous one, but not the type to let go of a grudge. As fiery as she is, so often will she nurture hatred and wait until the right moment to unleash it. He wouldn't envy Voracitos when that inevitable confrontation made itself apparent.

"Still having trouble with the locals, are we?" he asked calmly, nodding towards the holoprojector as if misinterpreting her mood. Perhaps the wildlife that had thought to inhabit the vast catacombs beneath the Korriban Temple had killed another scout or two. He knew well enough that such would likely not distract Anaya for long, but it was an easy excuse to cover her true feelings. "Such would not survive long here if they were not dangerously tenacious. Good exercise for the students in clearing them out, no?"

He took the seat opposite her, noting the glass of wine that had been left there, undoubtedly waiting his arrival. Most Sith would be suspicious of such: perhaps it was poisoned, left there to remove an opponent without the exertion of a protracted fight. Tirdarius was not the type to imagine Anaya above such, but she had ever been the type to prefer an enemy to fight on his feet so he might die on his knees, at her feet. She had ever savoured such domination of others, and something as petty as poison would be rather beneath her. He picked it up carefully and took a slow sip, giving himself a moment to absorb the flavouring.

"Interesting choice," he noted in an amiable tone, slightly reflective. "Sad that such things cannot be grown on Korriban. Can you imagine the grapes being grown here, distilled into an expensive vintage? Horuset Reserve...", he mused, finding a touch of humour in the concept. We reap, not sow. Amusing idea nonetheless.