Twisted and decadent...

[Darth Zilti]

She’d done the homework. As she neared Eclipse, she ran through what she knew. The Vahla were a nomadic, near-Human species who roamed the galaxy in search of their home-world. They were tall and slender, and possessed cartilaginous skeletons, which gave them exceptional flexibility. OK, this fitted her description but that proved nothing.

All were Force-sensitive, and occasionally, Vahla were born with red hair; those so endowed were often regarded as having been blessed by the goddess Vahl. Given the story about her mother and her sister’s hints at her origin and Maja was prepared to accept she was Vahla. That two complete strangers confirmed this fact only fuelled her belief.

This was the easy stuff to find out about. But in digging, she’d uncovered a Dark-side cult called the Ember of Vahl, and all Vahla were expected to heed the dictates of the cult's central coven.

She’d been able to find out a little about Vahl herself – a goddess of fire and destruction. But that was all, the rest was generally rumour and hyperbole – so she’d started looking for names and uncovered one – [member="Darth Venefica"]. So she was travelling to a former Jedi stronghold in the Deep Core – Eclipse – to meet her.

Hopefully she’d find some answers.

 

[Via Dolorosa]

Rarely did she ever get visitors, especially out here near the Eclipse where her massive project was almost complete. Most still viewed her as that unpredictable and mentally unstable Sith from her days as a youth. But she had matured over the past six years and even more so when the title of Sith Lady was bestowed upon her from the Dark Council and the Dark Lord himself. She had learned patience and shed her head-strong attitude while learning to control the voices in her head. No longer did they dictate her actions. They now played the role of advisers to her and only spoke when prompted to do so.​

​

So when Admiral Molr mentioned she had a guest arriving, she made sure everything aboard her warship, the Meshuga, was in tip-top shape. Not that there was much to be done since she ran a tight ship, her crew knowing what was expected of them. She was proud of them and they knew it but still she made inspections of the vessel only making minor changes here and there. To ensure the safety of her guest, she notified the rest of the fleet around Eclipse to be on the look out for the shuttle when it came out of hyperspace, then a squadron of fighters were to be launched and escort it to her location.​

​

Admiral Molr never questioned her orders or anything she did for that matter but when he witnessed her going to great lengths for an Acolyte, he asked her why go through so much trouble for a lower ranking Sith. She knew he didn't understand the bonds the Sith formed with one another. The days of killing each other over meaningless squabbles and petty disagreements were ancient and even frowned upon. The Dark Lord had decreed the killing of one another only weakened the Order while strengthening their enemies. She didn't understand politics but she believed in the Dark Lord's vision of a united Sith Order.​

​

"Her rank is unimportant, dear Admiral Molr. What is important is she is Sith and you will respect her for that alone," she answered then added, "But even more important than that...she is Vahla. All Vahla are welcomed here since this planet will one day be our homeworld."​

​

She didn't just take on this project to give the Sith another fortified world, but also to give her people a home and a place in the galaxy where the Ember of Vahl can conduct their business free from the prying eyes of heretics and the misinformed ignorance of people who were slow to grasp the cult's belief system. Soon her people would no longer be nomads.​

​

[member="Maja Vern"]​

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja’s shuttle approached the warship. It was the first time she’d ever met someone aboard such a vessel – and it would also be the first time she’d been on such a big ship in over six years. Being raised on freighters she was used to their size – but this was huge.

So she ensured she followed all the correct protocols and was surprised at the fighter escort that appeared almost the moment she appeared out of hyperspace – once she’d overcome her initial concern that was.

And she reflected that this was another of the One Sith she was about to meet. Since she’d last spoken to her sister, she’d met a couple – the Nautolan that taught her the third Form and the Sith Lady that had helped her recover her saber crystal in return for locating the holocron. Otherwise she’d done probably what Vahla did in the old days – she travelled around the galaxy picking up training here and there. Dark-magic from witches of every persuasion and Force Abilities from any Sith she deemed expert enough to teach her. For she hadn’t simply accepted training from anyone – she’d been selective. One day she would return to meet her sister – and her elder sibling will be proud to receive her – that was the plan. It was a longer process than Rain had been forced to endure, but it would be worth it. And she’d found out her true name too.

But in a sense she was no closer to facing her sister, she knew she was some way from being worthy of her, so she set her mind to redoubling her efforts. And maybe today’s meeting was a vanity? Perhaps, but like her name, her true heritage was an itch she just had to scratch before it consumed her.

So she docked and was met by a welcoming party – just one that was heavily armed. “Take me to your leader,” she said and took in the view. The ships in this hangar were worth staring at – but too conspicuous for what she needed. She’d make do with what she had, for now at least.

[member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

With her hands firmly clasped together and resting on her lower back, she continued to stare out the bridge's viewport taking in the darkness of space. Once there was fear of space travel now had been replaced by the beauty of it. She was possessed of beauty of late, finding it relaxing and pleasing to her black and red flecked eyes. Through various contacts she had managed to mass a collection of fine art and paintings, some adorning the walls and adding decor to her personal quarters aboard the warship. ​

​

She, unlike some of the other Lords and Ladies, had yet to settle down and find a place worthy enough to call home. Perhaps this was a gene in the genetic make-up of all Vahla, constantly moving and never putting down roots. However, she had toyed with the idea of making Eclipse her home, and only leaving when the Dark Lord summoned her.​

​

The doors to the bridge opened and she could feel the Dark Side in the girl. Slowly she closed her eyes soaking it up, feeling the energy radiating off her guest. It was pure Dark Side energy of a Vahla, not like the Force users that fell to it and made claims they were born of it. Fools! Only Vahla were truly born of the Dark Side, others were only usurpers in her eyes. She always had a superiour race complex when she viewed others that were not of her kind, she didn't blame them for their imperfections; she pitied them. And sometimes they even amused her.​

​

"Welcome, sister," she announced opening her eyes and slowly turning around to face her guest.​

​

​

[member="Maja Vern"]​

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja was intrigued by the ship. In one sense it was what it appeared when she approached it – a vessel designed to do battle. But inside it felt more like a…a what? She struggled to think of the right words. Not exactly a home but a caravan perhaps? Something travelled in on the journey to find a home. Maybe that was it. She still had insights granted to her by the Force but she had limited control of them, although she’d picked up bits and pieces as she travelled and had her natural gift of Farseeing to fall back on.

She’d worked this Ability, and could even find people this way – once tracking down a Chiss by piecing together fragments of dreams and visions that identified his planet, city and finally home. But that was over six years ago. During the great war she’d focussed mostly on staying alive but now the Force was stable again, she wished – no she needed – to progress her training. But first she needed some answers.

So she followed her escort to the bridge, her space-faring upbringing at the fore as she noted how advanced the ship was – and how well-drilled the crew were.

Finally the doors opened and she immediately took in the vista through the viewport. For someone that spent most of her younger years aboard freighters getting greasy in the smallest of spaces, she'd never tired of the scene – stars as far as the eye could see. In fact, even now she occasionally felt land-sick if she stayed in one place too long.

She sensed the power in the Sith Lord that stood in front of her. Oddly, the only Sith she’d really met were Lords – her sister, Darth Odium and Darth Arcanix. But she’d been around Acoyltes on Coruscant and had been on one quest with her sister – so was aware of the range on power the Sith possessed. Did she consider herself one? No, not yet. When she was worthy of returning and seeing her sister, perhaps then she could embrace those who called themselves Sith as brothers and sisters – but for now she was an outsider. A space nomad…which brought her back to why she was here.

“Welcome, sister.”

Maja nodded to acknowledge her host. “You have a wonderful ship here and I thank you for sparing me the time. I have so many questions and currently so few answers.” There was a genuine tone in her voice. It was no platitude about the ship, that much was obvious. The red-head glanced around the bridge and then returned her gaze to the Sith in front of her. As she stepped forward and she passed directly under a light, a tattoo was visible on her face. It was pale, as if very, very old – yet from her age and the fact the lines were so immaculate, it couldn’t have been more than half a dozen years old.

[member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

While her guest spoke, the Dagobah Sith studied her face taking in the shape, the curve of her jaw line, the softness of her lips. Even her eyes held magik inside them. She was a beautiful young woman, several years younger than herself; and not yet corrupted, physically, by calling on the Dark Side of the Force. Unlike the young woman before her, the signs of corruption were already visibly noticeable upon her skin; the Jedi called it a curse but the Sith called it true power. ​

​

Her once porcelain coloured skin had now become a shade of grey while around her eyes, her neck, and other exposed flesh purple vein-like jagged lines danced across her features. Her hair, always a matted mess, had changed colours while drawing a white streak down the leftside; which she thoroughly enjoyed. Even her teeth had gone through a transformation; now a mixture of serrated and pointy chompers. She had traded beauty for power. No regrets.​

​

"Tragically this ship is...well...home," she answered finding no cause to lie. For the past five months it was exactly that, home. She had been here five months working on this project but everyday more progress was being made. Soon she would have a new home. All Vahla would have a home.​

​

"Questions are good....it's the answers we sometimes we receive that are bad. Forgive my cryptic behaviour. It's as if sleep has decided to rebel against me these days. Please, ask away."​

​

[member="Maja Vern"]​

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja felt she was being appraised and she was comfortable with that. Too often she’d been underestimated in this fashion and although initially it stung, of late she’d come to see it as a blessing. Nobody kicked a dead dog, an old ship’s captain used to say. If someone sees you as a threat, they’ll look to take you down.

Her only challenge was being taken seriously enough to earn audiences like this – and since she’d stopped using her sister’s name to open doors, she’d found it tougher, but never impossible. Plus she had her trusted advisor with her, although she’d used her less and less in the past few years. But her hand still moved involuntarily to cloth that currently covered the hilt attached to her belt.

Gone were the days when she had only the dirty clothes she stood up in. For a while she’d worn the glistaweb dresses her sister gave her but she’d forsaken them for something far more practical. Her hooded black robe was standard and underneath she wore a tight-fitting one-piece black costume fashioned from Krayt Dragon hide – and around her waist she wore a simple black belt and her died black Sando Aqua Monster hide boots finished the outfit.

In truth she looked more menacing than she was – especially with the facial tattoo – as she’d learned plenty but used those Abilities sparingly. In comparison to the woman facing her, she was a novice – and they both knew it. But she had potential and that was all she asked to be judged on.

Maja nodded as her host spoke, “My home for the past eight years or so has been substantially smaller than this. I suspect I’ve been taking the space-nomad thing too far – but I have no real home, I never have. Roots are for other people it seems. But that’s not important and your time is precious, so…questions.”

“I am at the very least confident of my heritage and my research has taken me so far – but I lack the ability to access that which I truly wish to learn of – the Ember of Vahl.” Despite the lack of public knowledge, the name itself was openly known so she had no worry in using the term openly. If the conversation were to become private, she trusted the Sith Lord to make that call. “In truth, what can you tell me about it? Is it a myth or, as I suspect,” she glanced down pointedly at the planet below, “Is it a lot more active than the average person believes?”

[member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

Her right index finger slowly tapped on her lips as she thought about the girl's words. So she came here seeking knowledge in regards to the Ember of Vahl. Very few spoke of this and those that did usually did so in secret. It was not as if followers, such as herself, worried about being hunted down like their ancestors did, but more that people did not understand them. The word 'cult' had been tossed around and perhaps that was what they are, a cult. ​

​

"The Ember of Vahl," she said letting the words roll of her tongue, "Is not a myth."​

​

She gestured for her guest to walk with her, leading her through the exit doors of the bridge. The Sith Lady walked through the ship's cold corridors, the cold metal feeling refreshing on her bare feet, in complete silence choosing her words wisely. ​

​

"The Chosen One, [member="Darth Isolda"] and High Priestess, has saw a vision for all Vahla. I believe she wishes to unite our...tribes...though my tribe is dead to me. Or rather I'm dead to them. Coruscant has the only Temple dedicated to the Goddess of Vahl and I plan to construct another one here on Eclipse...and give our people a homeworld."​

​

"Our history, for the most part, is lost due to the Jedi Order's attempt to eradicate us so long ago. So everyday we create a new history," she continued, the duo entering a small chamber. Inside the chamber was a shrine and several artifacts dedicated to Vahl; Darth Venefica's ritual room. "Ritual sacrifice to the Goddess is widely practiced among us. However, unlike some of the others, I do not take the lives of the weak. The lives of soldiers make excellent offerings to a Goddess who prides herself on destruction and strength."​

​

Darth Venefica reaches down and retrieves her ceremonial dagger, running her left index finger along the sharp blade spilling small droplets of her blood into a black and red chalice resting on her alter. Respectfully she returns the dagger to the alter and leans forward placing a gentle kiss on her statue of Vahl.​

​

"Very few choose to worship openly for fear of...hmm...witch hunts. Secrecy is based on the individual and since many choose this as their ally, it will appear on the surface we are inactive. The Goddess accepts all species, not just Vahla, into her heart. However, those not born of Vahla blood must undergo a set of trials to prove their love and faith to Vahl. Very few survive."​

​

​

[member="Maja Vern"]​

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja was not surprised at the first answer. She wouldn’t have been here if it were a fairy-tale - but it was still good to hear that her efforts weren't in vain. So she followed the Sith Lady as they left the bridge. She could have been marching to her death for all she knew - but it mattered little, she’d reached a point in her life where she sought closure as much as anything - and death was as final as it got. Not that she expected her life to end there and now. Her senses told her she needn’t worry here and now. She trusted no-one and it had kept her alive to date, and regardless of the outcome of the conversation, she would take no Sith at face value - but she would allow them to dictate her current course of action unless they proved weak or unreliable. And for now the One Sith was to be given the utmost attention.

As they walked, she took in the names and titles. The concept of tribes was new to her, she had no knowledge of anything other than Vahla - and her ancestry was at best cloudy. She knew her real name - although the source of the information was surprising to say the least. She knew of the Jedi actions to eradicate the Vahla from the galaxy and as she was piecing all this together, she entered the small chamber that was a shrine to Vahl. She stared at the statue and once more reflected on the words she’d clung to from an early age. Toying with her red hair, she wondered why she’d never considered the aspect of prayer - when she always knew Vahl was a goddess.

“Those who choose not to worship are weak and unworthy.” The words tumbled from her lips and there appeared to be no remorse at sharing what were clearly strong views on the subject - especially from an outsider. By contrast, what followed was clearly well thought through as she spoke - and it appeared uncharacteristic as a result, her voice stilted and staccato. “Secrecy has its place of course, and it is not for me to…judge the decision of which species are to be embraced by the goddess but I wonder why even those born of Vahl should not...choose to prove their love and faith. If I were not to survive, it would be clear I was not worthy. That seems…appropriate. If I were to request to fulfil my birthright, what would I need to do next?”

[member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

Darth Venefica gave the Acolyte a brief smile. The words the young woman spoke was nothing new to the ears of the Sith Lady. She had heard the arguments and pleas that even Vahla should undergo such trials, and though even she believed it should be so; it was also their birthright not to take the trials. However, those Vahla that proved faithless overtime faced a far worse punishment than death.​

​

"Any non-Vahla must take the trials not because they are born inferior to us but because most alien species have proven to be....untrustworthy. I know, I know that is harsh for one to continue to think in small terms these days but history is history....and most atrocities are hard to forget....or forgive. But I don't hate or distrust aliens."​

​

She clamped down tight on her emotions when she thought of one particular Twi'lek that she was yearning to be close with. It had been some time since she saw her "friend" but duty called for both of them. In time, everything will play out for them and they would no longer need to hide in the shadows or use secrecy to keep others from discovering them, or their relationship. She mentally shook her head and returned her focus back to the Acolyte.​

​

"The debate for not having pureblood Vahla prove their faith and love is as ancient as the Goddess herself. Some believe our race is the superior species in the galaxy....sadly it is not. But it doesn't stop the ignorant from clinging to such misguided dreams. However, a Vahla that loses their faith in the Goddess faces a judgement far worse than an alien that has done so. An alien is simply banished. A Vahla....is stripped of their connection to the Force and the Dark Side then branded an apostate; in some severe cases they are sacrificed to the Goddess in hopes she can deem them worthy enough to be reborn again."​

​

The Dagobah Sith never believed or accepted that death should be bestowed on their kind. Their numbers were small as it was and killing their own brothers and sisters seemed to be nothing short of fratricide and sororicide; something she detested greatly. But it was not her place to make the theocractic laws but uphold them. Nothing was perfect.​

​

"So you wish to fulfill your birthright? To do so, you must first petition the High Priestess [member="Darth Isolda"] and through her the Goddess would determine if your faith is strong enough to be called a Daughter of Vahl. If you truly desire this....we can contact her from here."​

​

​

[member="Maja Vern"]​

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja listened. She was ambivalent to aliens as a concept. Being raised on a freighter and having a transient crew meant she’d never considered the concept of one race being favourable and as she only became aware of her own due to meeting her sister, she still could not bring herself to be dismissive on non-Vahla in general. But to serve the goddess? It wasn’t something she’d given much thought to – but her snap judgement was that it felt wrong somehow – although she could not vocalise those immediate thoughts.

Again, her words seemed measured and therefore a little stilted, unnatural. Not that she was exuding any hint of falsehood – rather that she was being careful in what she said, albeit the reason for the caution was not obvious.

“I wish to fulfil my birthright. In truth, I feel it is my duty, my…destiny. I am not entirely familiar with the goddess – not in the way you are.” Maja waved at the shrine, “My allegiance to date has been to the race of my birth. But I believe that I was always intended to serve the goddess and therefore I truly desire to do whatever it takes.”

She’d endured pain at the hands of Matsu. She’d endured pain at the hands of Kaine. On both occasions the reason was simple – it was necessary for her to advance in her training. She had already paid the toll – twice in fact – and would do so again and again. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

“Please contact her.”

[member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Darth Isolda"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

The Dagobah Sith stood there in awe of what the Acolyte had said. The girl had no visible signs of fear and she wanted to be reclaimed by Vahl herself. Either she was a fool or simply believed she was a Daughter of Vahl, just as Darth Venefica was. The Sith Lady began to clap her hands and laugh. She had heard less meaningless creatures make the same vow, and those poor sods no longer walked among the living. Perhaps she could help this girl finally achieve what she wanted. It would be a difficult path for both, but what wasn't these days.​

​

"Perhaps we can forgo contacting the High Priestess...and discover for ourselves if you are worthy."​

​

She called to her hand the ceremonial blade that rested upon her shrine to the Goddess. Her eyes glistened at the beauty of the blade, it's complex design and intricate patterns drawing her full attention to it. She flipped the blade in her hand, presenting it to the Acolyte handle first.​

​

"Blood begets wisdom....blood begets knowledge....blood begets power....and blood begets unity. To begin the rite of passage, the Goddess demands blood. To obtain what you desire....you must pay tribute in blood. The innocence is pure....but the wicked shall be punished. Go forth and strike down the wicked....bath in their blood and the Goddess shall smile upon you. And I shall consider calling you my sister. Kill Sgt. Zine of the Imperial Corps here on the ship....there is no more wicked soul than him."​

​

[member="Maja Vern"]​

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja was surprised that the Sith Lord laughed at her. Initially she thought her credentials or even her commitment were being challenged. But before she could take genuine umbrage, the Sith Lord spoke. And the words were positive – if laced with a serious challenge. But she had not endured what she’d done so far just to shirk at the thought of a new test.

The blade was…unexpected. Maja viewed its beauty but knew its value was not as something to be viewed and admired. Something altogether more practical was coming her way. So when she was offered it handle first, she paused before taking it – drinking in the Sith Lord’s words.

She had no issue with death or killing for that matter. Taking orders she was less good at. So she hesitated and the Sith Lord would have noticed. For once Maja was being serious – levity was all well and good in its place – but this was not it. Not since she’d taken the beating at Darth Vornskr’s hands was she as staid as she was now.

“Wisdom, knowledge, power, unity.” She repeated the words to allow their impact to sink in. “I would kill a world to show my worthiness. I shall lay waste to the weak and unworthy to prove my unity. The man’s already dead – his body simply does not know it yet.”

Maja left the room, sword in hand. There would be no games, no subterfuge. She was worthy and the goddess wanted his blood. Maja wanted his blood. As tribute. She stopped the first uniform she met and gave a simple instruction. “Take me to Sgt. Zine.”

The officer gave her the once over. “He’s up-“

Maja cut him off. “I said take me…” Her eyes flashed yellow and the officer clearly took the hint and led her to the turbolift and then to the mess area. If the men and women were surprised to see someone dressed like a Sith wandering around with a sword in her hand, they hid it well.

Finally the officer took Maja to a table and spoke to one of the men. He was ordinary looking, blonde hair, blue eyes. Quite cute really. Not the epitome of evil one might expect. Not unshaven. No terrible scars and certainly no shifty eyes. He was…quite simply…boyfriend material.

“Sgt. Zine, our guest wishes to speak with you.”

The young man stood, a devilishly handsome smile played across his lips. “Of course Captain.” His eyes were on Maja the whole time and she got a sense – just for the briefest moment – of the man. A philanderer, a murderer, a thief, an opportunist and a sadist. Despite the soft exterior, inside his heart was as black as space itself. “How can I help you ma’am.” Again that smile, this time he exposed his teeth, pearly white. She could imagine them biting her, right on the…

Bringing her thoughts back to the here and now she didn’t smile. She barely spoke. “You can die.”

He wore trooper amour, her blade was going to ensure a slow death as he was protected from an obvious killing blow unless she could target his neck. It took a split second for her words to permeate his mind. For the smile to first freeze on his face and then turn into a snarl. Now the true man was exposed for what he was.

“Why you little queen…” His hand went for his blaster but even with her limited experience with a standard blade, she had the Force on her side. Her eyes morphed from their usual amber to yellow and her irises were now ringed scarlet. She was a Vahla and so lacked strength – her bones were light and flexible but in close combat they were a hindrance. But what she lacked in power she gained in speed.

So she slashed at the hand as it closed around the grip of his gun and he dropped it. By instinct he lashed out at her, she felt the crack of her cheekbone as his hand struck her face. She felt the pain and she loved it. A darkness welled up inside her. She could have easily finished this with the Force but that was not the test. So she smiled and dexterously took aim at the joints between the plates of his armour. No single cut debilitating but combined they would wear him down.

She endured a punch to the mouth – the coppery taste of her own blood simply excited her all the more. And then a well aimed kick managed to shatter her knee-cap. Realising this was a serious blow and that she could only endure pain for so long before it wore her down, she raised her tempo. And it was working. His white armour was streaked with his blood. Mostly his own but some of hers too. And then a duep lunge caught him just above the breastplate and she knew she had him.

He toppled forward, his hands grabbing at his throat for air. She heard the rasps and saw blood frothing on his lips. Quickly she removed his breastplate and drove the blade into his chest. Over and over – blood splattering the immediate area – although the crew had taken a sensible step away from the altercation. None came to save their comrade – a true indication of his worth.

Finally, his chest and ribs a mess, she plunged her hands in, ripping into the soft tissue of his torso. She felt below his rib cage and into his thoracic cavity, groping until she found what he was looking for-the slick, pulsating mass of his heart. Pulling it from his chest cavity, she laced the fingers of both hands together around it and squeezed.

His heart burst between her fingers. She ignored the blood that sprayed her face. She stood up and licked the blood from her teeth and spat. She stumbled back, tired but emotionally fulfilled.

Wearily, hobbling due to the broken knee, she made her way out of the mess hall – the blade in one hand, the man’s heart in her other.

It took six minutes to reach the man. It took almost an hour to make her way back to the Sith Lord. Finally she reached the shrine. “I bring the Goddess tribute.”

[member="Darth Venefica"]