The Old Sith Trials

IC Darth Arancia 
Dread Fortress, Oricon 


Arancia stiffened as Srethros stepped closer to him, preparing to unleash the charged Repulse that he had built up. The crimson glow of Srethros’s blade faded, however, and he walked past the Gand with purpose. “This is my doing,” Srethros spat. “I will correct this. The Monster already has a taste and will want more. We will deprive him and break him.” Arancia was stunned by the actions of his fellow Master. Perhaps this was a sign that there was more to Srethros than a simple brute only interested in power. The energy coalescing between Arancia’s hands dissipated harmlessly and the Gand turned to watch the confrontation. Srethros had dragged the Anzat from the depths of a darkened hallway and was now looming over him. “You incompetent Monster, do you see what you have done? You just couldn’t help yourself could you? You have killed a Sith acolyte, an account that is punishable by death. Look at me! I could end your life with a finger and no one would know except for us here. But, death is too simple, too easy and quick. You will remember this day for decades to come, if you live that long. From this moment forward your life belongs to me, you will swear your loyalty and life to me, Monster."

"Out of the whole group here you seem the only one that isn't incompetent," Tacite replied, staring daggers at Arancia. "For me to swear loyalty to you who has done nothing wrong by me would be my pleasure. As such a gift to you in recompense." There was amusement in Arancia’s expression now, though none but another Gand would ever know. The Anzat knew not what he said, but he was now on a leash, and Arancia, while he trusted Srethros as far as he could throw him, knew that Srethros would keep Tacite in line.

Arancia stepped towards Voxyn, who had been watching prepared to strike. “Arancia regrets that you had to see that, Acolyte,” Arancia’s voice buzzed in apology. “There are… differing philosophies on how the Sith should operate. You have yet to see firsthand how destructive these disagreements can be. For now, we must fulfill our task.” Arancia looked back at Srethros and Tacite. “The Phobis Core. If it still rests here, it would be in the chambers of the Dread Masters. We must make haste.” He motioned down the darkened hall that Tacite had hidden in. “Let us put that tumult behind us and carry out the will of the Emperor together.”

TAG: taciteoccultus , darthvoxyn , Darth Voidwalker

Malos was startled by the pod's sudden opening, so much so that he hurriedly stepped backward a few steps. He looked the being up and down, trying to get a read on her. She had to be as powerful as he was, if her Force signature was any indicator. But she was weakened, skinny. Unless her strange species was meant to be that skinny, but her expression told a different tale. She was hungry, disoriented. If Malos wanted her dead, he would have to strike now; she would be too weak to defend herself.
The grip on his lightsaber tightened, and quite a large portion of his mind wanted to cut her down where she stood. He did not know who she was, what she was, or what the kriff she was saying. This frightened him on an instinctual level, for all beings feared the unknown, whether they knew so or not.
But the curiosity won the day, causing Malos to loosen the grip ever slightly. Still strong enough in case she attacked, but no longer willing to strike first.
Smiling, Malos chuckled, “It's not Basic, that's for sure,” replying to Volacius, who did not appear to recognize the language either. Trinaya had remained silent, so she too must have been ignorant of this foreign tongue.
Well, that would make things difficult.
Pointing to himself, Malos spoke to the strange girl after she had finished speaking. “Darth Malos.” He then pointed to the Mirialan. “Volacius.” Then finally to the Zabrak. “Trinaya.”
He assumed that names would be the first part of digging through the language barrier. Hopefully she had realized this, for he then pointed to her with a questioning look upon his face, as if asking what her name was.

TAGS: @lordjania , cliojayne , volacius

IC: Trinaya and Volacius
Location- Sinister Starship

Trinaya had only been truly hungry a few times in her life, but she recognized where the majority of the strange woman’s discomfort was coming from. It had been years since her first full day without food during survival training. The empty feeling of your stomach wrapping around your spine was enough to cause anyone discomfort. Part of Trin was tempted to go to the woman’s side and offer her some of the remaining food, but she also suspected a potential trap and was wary of what “real” food might do to the woman’s system. There was no telling how many years she had been in stasis. Eyes still swiveling around the room, Trin kept her defensive position at Volacius’ side and spoke in a low voice to her deranged Sith Lord, “Darth Malos, if we want to get any information out of this woman we need to get her to a medbay as quickly as possible.” Trin marveled at the fact that she considered him safer than the stranger- ‘the evil you know…’ she thought to herself wryly.

Volacius wasn’t sure he agreed with that idea. His time spent on his own before he’d joined the Empire had taught him that one’s good deeds would more often than not be turned against them, a lesson he did not need or want to relearn. “But do we want her to recover? What if she merely takes advantage of our charity and attacks us once her strength is rejuvenated?”

Not waiting for Malos to respond, Trin replied to Volacius, “Unless this is some kind of trap, the three of us can surely keep her contained until we get back to the temple. From there she would have to defeat all the Sith on Korriban- or at least most of them- to retaliate in any way. Besides which someone there might speak her language.” Volacius’ caution was well founded, but there was too much potential knowledge that could be gained to ignore. Although taking her back meant abandoning the quest they had originally started.

“And what if you are wrong?” Volacius countered. “What if no one at the Temple can translate for her? What if she is capable of dealing a serious blow to the Empire here on Korriban? She is clearly from a time long before our own, there’s no telling what she is capable of. Who's to say she isn’t faking her apparent lack of strength as we speak?”

Trin wasn’t used to being pushed back against by someone she considered her peer. Truth be told she hadn’t had many peers before coming to Korriban. Holding her temper on a tight rein, she reached out again with the force, “Can’t you feel her? She may be strong in the force but her life energy is weak to the point of non-existence. Barring someone kind of weapon meant to be released upon death I can’t see what threat she could be to the Empire. The Emperor would hardly allow any threat that great to remain this close to him.” Trin knew it was a bit of a weak argument, but it was all she could come up with while frustrated.

darthkain7, cliojayne, @lordjania

IC Brooke, Darth Kain, Darth Feros and Reaper

Abandoned mines, Corbos


Corvar breathed a sigh of relief, low to the point that one would have to listen for it in order to hear it. He was glad to know that he was able to convince Feros and Reaper of which way to go. Though as the trio discussed this, he began to feel Brooke's fears swell to the point of bursting. It was as if she was a scared child, warning the adults of the dangers in the darkness, yet all the while being ignored and dragged into the darkness all the same.

Fear.

As the men decided, fear was what filled the air. Feros smiled as it poured off the Miraluka. It was thick. Almost tangible. And it was intoxicating. Feros smiled in the darkness.

Corvar pitied her, but she would come to realize that he, Feros, and Reaper were the danger in the darkness. They were the monsters that children feared would be lingering beneath their beds and in their closets. They had to be, if they were to acquire the power they wanted. No man becomes powerful and stays good.

Her unsteady hand found its way to his arm, gripping tightly onto the cloth of his robes, grasping for any semblance of comfort as her fear devoured her very soul. The empathy Corvar had for her made him share this fear for the briefest moment, the fear of what could be calling his name. It could be a trap, some creature or spirit hoping to destroy him and his new allies. But the flame inside burned away the fear as it appeared, leaving nothing but ash and the confidence that he was in control of his destiny.

Reaper had felt Brooke's fear, her anger and her reluctance to go into the dark. He loved it. He fed off of it. He absorbed it with a smile. She feared the dark when its those in the dark she should fear. The three darksiders next to her. And the best part was she grabbed for one of them. He found irony in it. He was enjoying the taste of her fear fueling him. It was a taste unlike the one he had felt on the surface but yet satisfying in other ways.

She gripped Corvar's arm, like a child clutching for its father in the darkness of night before bed. She started all but begging in her fear, not to take that path. But she would have to get over her fears. “I don’t want to go back to the darkness,” her voice whispered, the words filtered through a stream of tears steadily soaking the cloth around her hollowed eyes. “The black and cold reaching out and grabbing, holding me down and digging into my head. Slimy tentacles twisting and squelching.”

Whatever her nightmares were, Feros was worse. As were Corvar and Reaper. They were the men that bred nightmares. Spoken of in hushed downs and silent murmurs in even the most dangerous of company. And when you became fear, fear was an emotion you simply no longer felt. So it had to be.

Corvar opened his mouth to speak, to calm her and convince her that he would allow no harm to come to her. He would have meant it, had the words arrived. But the words halted in their tracks the moment he felt anger begin to stir with her fear, intermingling but not quite becoming homogeneous. Like oil and water. She was angry that the fiends that had killed her friends would still be willing to take her places she did not want to go. To take her into the darkness simply because they were one with it.

For a moment, Corvar prepared to wield the barriers he learned of in Darth Gravid's holocron, so that he could prevent a total collapse of the cave pending some outburst from the scared Miraluka. But that anticipation was unwarranted, it seemed. In an instant, the fear and anger was gone, the water and oil drained from her heart and replaced with cold confidence that Corvar had never seen in her.

She changed. Almost mid breath. Like the flick of a switch. And she was all somber, steely determination. Feros had felt this before. In Mandalorian warriors. A calm, almost total lack of emotion.

Corvar could almost describe it as serenity, a certain calm that he'd only seen in Jedi. Of course, he'd never come too close to a Jedi, for his adoptive father made sure of it. But he had seen Jedi all the same, and he had felt their peace with each step they walked. As a child, this peace was desirable. No worries about what to do or where to go. The Jedi let the Force, and their Council, make those decisions. It must have been easier that way, to not think, to not worry. It may have worked for the Jedi, but it would not work for Corvar. He was a man of action, of will. The Jedi let their will succumb to the Force. The Sith made the Force succumb to their will. That is why he would become one. Serenity was not meant for him.

And that peace, that serenity, was concerning. No one changed emotions that quickly, especially no one of Brooke's… disposition.

“Are you alright?” Corvar inquired as her hand left his arm. She did not respond, instead slowly walking down the left path without checking to see if her allies were in tow. But they were, following closely as her sight guided them. Though it was not a particularly difficult path to take, what with the glow rod in Corvar's grasp and the fact that it continued straight with no unforeseen turns or another blasted fork in the path.

Brooke came to a sudden stop around fifty or so meters down the path, and for good reason. A wall of rocks and rubble blocked their way, caused by some ancient cave-in. Possibly around the same time as Jen-Sin Caal trapsed around these mines, possibly after. Either way, this was the right way, and this cave-in was just another obstacle to get past.

Crawling through the cracks in between the rocks were the whispers. Still muffled, but louder. Corvar was surprised that none of the others seemed to be hearing them. But that made it all the more interesting to him. A siren's call would reach everyone, drawing in as many prey as possible for whatever creature was emitting it. But this call seemed to be for him; he wouldn't leave it unanswered.

“Well, let's not waste any time,” Corvar said with a small grin before hooking the glow rod to his belt. “Feros, Reaper, let's get this debris out of the way. Gently. Don't need another cave-in.”

Feros heard Corvar speaking. Move tons of stone. Gently. Though he had a point. There wasn't much of another way.  "Alright. It's going to take all three of us, and that may not be enough. Unless..." Feros let his words trail off. He knew one way to boost the strength of at least one of them. Feros reached out with his Force Presence and touched Corvar's mind. He was going to initiate a Meld. He hadn't tried it yet, but the technique was known to increase the strength of anyone in the meld. They'd feed off one another's Force Energy.

"Join the Meld, Corvar. It'll give us the push we need." Feros sent the thought through the Force. He knew he'd see things about Corvar, and Corvar would see things about him. Flashes. Almost like holo-stills. Or so he had heard. That could be addressed later. Right now, there was work to be done.

Meld? What the kriff could that mean? Was Feros trying to initiate some kind of connection between the two of them in the Force? If so, why? Corvar had not heard of this ability in his limited studies before attaining Gravid's holocron, and if this power was within said holocron, he had not gotten to that part of its library yet.
But there was not any time to telepathically go back and forth, asking what this power was or what it would do. If Feros believed it would help with this cave-in, Corvar was not going to object. A decision he would come to regret. “Fine,” Corvar replied, the thread of Force energy connecting their minds vibrating at the same frequency of his voice.

It was like being gut-punched in the soul. Feros was inside Corvar's mind. And Corvar was inside his. It was like some sort of endless flow where the other began as soon as one ended. But Feros felt more open to the force than he ever had. And he knew exactly what Corvar was going to do. Exactly how he was going to channel his energy. And then they came. Darkness. Screaming. Beatings. Yells. Cries for help, unanswered. He was seeing Corvar's past. Feros knew this was coming from his studies. He just let it flow and ignored it. And he knew Corvar would do the same.

It was in this moment that Corvar regretted his decision to meld with Feros. Their minds became one, linked together by an invisible thread that Corvar did not have the strength to break. Every conscious and unconscious movement that Feros made was filling Corvar's mind with useless information. Every thought, every breath, every beat of Feros's heart was experienced in an eerily similar way to his own.
And then the flashes came. Memories. Passing between the two darksiders like a river, if a river could miraculously flow both up and down stream. Corvar passed over Feros's worst memories like rapids, slamming into jagged rocks as he was able to see, no, remember the torture that Feros endured. With this came this the realization that Feros was able to see his own memories. Memories that he wanted no one to see, memories that he had buried years ago. He saw those memories flowing past him, heading towards Feros's side of the river. Desperately, he clinged to the memories, hoping to stop their advance. To the outside world, he would appear as if he was in deep concentration. It would not seem out of place from Feros's point of view, surely. But he more than likely looked ill to Reaper and Brooke, sparking confusion.

They wouldn't even need to speak. They were connected on a level only Force users could connect on. And then Feros saw a strange image. He saw himself, as a boy, standing beside, well, himself. No. Someone that looked exactly like him. His mind was projecting like Corvar's was. He shut it down and decided to test the meld. "Alright. Let's try this out." Feros thought as he lifted his hands and started weaving the Force gently around the stones.

Reaper heard Corvar speak, saying it'd take all three of them. He agreed, but as he glanced at both Feros and Corvar, he saw them spaced out, so to speak. He then saw them become focused and decided he'd ask what was wrong later.

"Alright. Ready when you guys are. Let's get this thing lifted, and Corvar, if you can tell Brooke to pitch in, please do,” said Reaper. He held his hands out in front of him and closed his eyes, trying to summon all his anger and hatred as well as the fear of Brooke from earlier. He summoned the thrill of the battle and the raging fires of his unquenchable thirst for blood to the surface to aid him in lifting this rubble.

But Corvar did not hear them.. All of his focus was on protecting his memories. Little did he know that this was creating a dam in the river, stopping the flow of everything in the meld. Not only of the memories, but also of the mutual power being shared and enhanced by the meld. The sudden rush of power that Feros felt before would abruptly cease, likely disrupting his concentration on the rocks in their path.

Brooke reached out her hands in imitation of the three men as power rippled through the air between them. Slowly, the massive stones began to rumble and shake. One by one they pulled away from the mountain that blocked the path. As they removed the obstructions, smaller boulders tumbled from the top of the pile, rolling behind the Force users.

The path was soon emptied enough to traverse. The fruits of their efforts littered the edges of the reduced pile of stones. The cavern shuddered suddenly around them. Corvar's warnings seemed to be for naught as dust fell around them. More cracks appeared above their heads and stone began to break loose from the ceiling. Debris hailed down on the heads of the group, with a particularly large chunk threatening to strike Feros. Brooke, seemingly sensing the connection that was forged between Corvar and Feros, instinctively blasted a wave of telekinetic power at Feros, sending the man hurtling back to safety.

More of the ceiling crumbled away, bringing heavy stone down around them. The debris threatened to bury the party in another cave in. Feros, being cast free of the chaos, could only watch as another mountain formed between him and the rest of the group. Boulders rained down, set to painfully strike Reaper and Corvar if they did not react. Thankfully, the path they had worked to clear was still low enough that they could climb past and advance through the mines. They were now trapped though, with only one direction to go.

TAG: darthkain7 , trentongordon , darthferos

IC: Trill
Location: Wrecked Rakata Ship, Korriban

Trill would feel herself drifting away as the slaves apparently talked among them but even with not understanding a lick of their language with the exception of names, she could tell they were not in agreement of whatever they were discussing. Deciding to listen more closely, she would do her best to keep her eyes open and awake as she could feel her stomach ravenously growling once more sending another shock of pain up her spine as she desparately needed some food. Looking outside the ship in the direction of where her storage was at she originally figured it could be possible that some rations survived the crash. It couldn’t have been more than a few days since she landed in this mountain right? Well those thoughts purged themselves from her mind as she squinted her eyes to take a closer look at the bent and burnt metal outside the opening. This was a ship forged by the Star Forge itself or at least that was the rumor on Byss… there was no way that the metal would be rusted and eroded just from a few days ago during a crash and burn. Lifitng her hand just slightly to get a small piece of the metal to come past the group and land in her hand. Feeling the shrapnel she would feel the weakness in its integrity; for even in her weakened state she could easily snap the metal piece in two without aid of the force. Doing this before looking up to the group with a tired and confused face as they continued to talk amongst themselves, Trill would finally ask “Fa romo tae son und fota?” (How long have I been here?)

Noticing her question go unanswered when the apparent leader of the group; Malos yelled out and it ceased all talking between the three, Trill wondered what the man was going to say since he seemed to have a plan from the looking in his eyes. Seeing him to talk to the zabrak first before saying a word that sounded familiar; Jedi… it sounded like the word Je’daii! Surely it had to be the same word just in different languages. She wouldn’t say anything just yet but would decide to wait until his attention was on her once more. But after talking to the zabrak he now directed himself at the green alien who she still had never seen before. She could remember one being at the Je’daii temple on Tython but she never had the chance to converse with the woman while she was there. Waiting for him to finish, she would throw glances at all members in the group. They had to be hounds, there was literally no other way they could be on Korriban and know about the Je’daii Order on Tython.

As Malos reached in his coat and pulled out a slab of wrapped cooked meat and apparently was offering it to her, Trill would raise an eyebrow in suspicion as she wondered if they were trying to poison her or help her. Deciding with her slow antagonizing death that would occur from starvation soon to come, Trill decided to take the risk and quickly snatched the meat before deciding to open the wrap and take a look at the food inside. Sniffing it as the smell would make her want to vomit her organs; she could only imagine what foul beast they slain to get this meat. It was trash for a force hound like her but apparently food to others and with no other food around she decided to take a bit and then another. And before she knew it, Trill had ravaged the piece of meat and was licking the grease from the wrap as she was craving more food instantly. “Moto! Moto! Moto!” (More! More! More!) She would look to Malos as she knew he just had to have more in his coat.

When she received no immediate response she would find enough strength to finally stand up, Trill would wipe the dust from her clothing as her breathing was a little heavy due to the rushing nature in which she devoured her small meal. Walking over to Malos she would wait until she was a few feet from him. “Malos... To tayma timo Je’daii? To vixt bing ka Tython? Wop mon to gut lubiego fon luxio? Son Predor rix son fota ka yute Daritha Venomis. Si ku fota? (Malos… You know the Jedi? You have been to Tython? Why are you not speaking our language? My master sent me here to find Darth Venomis. Is he here?) She would ask hoping that the man would drop the act and start speaking Rakatan. She needed to complete her mission as fast as possible so that she could get back to her master. With as much time as probably past she would hope her Master already died or either thinks that she is on the way back to Byss with good news.

Tag: cliojayne, volacius, darthkain7

IC: Kai Erlae

Kai straightened at the rebuke from Lord Pares, sending a glare inwardly if such was possible to It nestled in his stomach. They had stopped fighting...for now, but these were always very uneasy truces. He never quite knew when she'd strike, in his mind, but had he not been so spiteful, he would have recognized that it -- really she -- used her position inside his torso to keep him from doing something stupid or to retaliate. But Kai was young, and dumb, and angry. What could one expect?

He tried hiding from the soldier as he entered and questioned Lord Pares and the other man with him, but he was not fast enough. The trooper caught him, blasters aimed at each other. Kai wasn't going to wait around to be shot.

He fired a shot directly at the trooper, but didn't wait to see if it landed. He fired off a few more, maneuvering around the ship to try and get at shot at the other guard. Inside, he felt It holding on for dear life and inadvertently digging into his lungs. "I have to breathe you idiot!" he cursed at his stomach. 

dragonsith13 , darthkain7 , Darth Xxys

Ziost

Lylia cursed to herself as she continued to follow the mysterious voice’s directions, finding herself in the same hallway as two guards. They were at first facing in her direction, but paused. Most guards would have been drawn to the sight of some strange Omwati girl charging down the hallway towards them, they seemed distracted. After a short pause, the armored duo turned down an adjacent hall, leading them to a landing pad. It looked like Lylia’s luck had not run out just yet; the burning on her thigh reminded her that she did not need to enter any more confrontation today.
She had an inkling, however, that the landing pad those two guards were investigating was the very one that she was heading towards. Not so lucky after all, Lylia silently chided herself.
Once she made it to the corner that the guards had turned down, she saw the doors to the pad were still opened, and the guards had their backs to her.

“There are no ships authorized for this pad, currently,” one said, his voice practically booming over the speakers in his helmet. “Where is your identification?”
Lylia slowed her run to a slow walk, realizing that these guards were not going to just let her skip on by without demanding the same of her. Dislodging her blaster from the holster, she held firmly onto the grip. She did not wish to kill these guards, kriff, she did not like killing anyone. But survival was the goal in mind now, and morals were simply a chain that she would have to break if she were to achieve that goal.
She cringed at her thoughts, realizing that her exposure to the Sith must have begun to take its toll on her thought process. But she was not going to disregard those thoughts, for they were right.
Raising the blaster to her eye level, she aimed for the guards. Yet as she did, the guards spun to their sides, blasters raised. This did not stop her finger from squeezing the trigger, but it did change her aim ever so slightly. Her blaster fired four times in amazingly quick succession, two bolts aimed for each guard. It seemed whoever was flanking the guards was having the same idea, as she saw even more blaster bolts flying towards the guards. In such a short amount of time, Lylia could not hope to count how many blaster bolts had actually struck the guards, but she had a feeling they would be turned into two slices of swiss cheese momentarily.

TAGS: dragonsith13 , Darth Xxys , Reiis Invadator

In the darkness, Corvar felt Brooke latch onto his arm once more, her hands shaking with fear. It seemed that she had returned to normal, the brush with death enough to rouse her from her sudden bout of confidence. As she held onto his arm, he focused his thoughts on Feros. In fact, he found it difficult not to.
His memories were beginning to meld with Corvar's own, along with his power. That power had not faded, and Corvar could tell that Feros was as alive as he was. A simple message would have to suffice. Corvar had to continue his search for what called him, and no one would stop that.
Speaking through their link, Corvar said, “We are safe. You can either head back and take the other path or just wait at the ship with Threepio. Just don't get yourself killed; I have no idea what that would do to me.”

Focusing on the present, allowing the dizzying information of Feros's mind to be stored for later, Corvar looked down to Brooke, who was beginning to speak.
“They see us. They’re waiting.”
He could not see them, whatever they were. That made him uneasy, but he knew it terrified her. Realizing that he had lost his glow rod in the cave-in, Corvar activated his lightsaber, allowing its crimson glow to surround the trio.



He then looked down to Brooke and chuckled, “Well, it'd be rude to keep them waiting,” in an effort to shake her fear, and in turn stir up confidence. If not in herself, at least in him. He had no idea whether or not it would work, however.
Corvar then turned to Reaper, raising the lightsaber over his head to spread the light a bit further. “You'll be covering our backs in case anything in here tries to sneak up on us. Let me know if you hear anything unusual.”


TAGS: Darth Catalyst , darthferos , trentongordon

IC BROOKE 
Abandoned mines, Corbos

While each of the men seemed enthusiastic to journey further into the depths of the mines, Brooke could not share their excitement. She continued to shake her head and whimper as they stepped deeper into the blackness. The crimson glow of the lightsabers that Reaper and Corver held seemed to be cut short mere feet ahead of them. Brooke winced at each minute sound that echoed through the tunnels.



The trio continued walking, Brooke playing the role of unwitting guide to Reaper and Corvar. They rounded another corner, the darkness still blanketing them. Suddenly, Brooke let loose an ear piercing scream. But the sound could not have come from her. Corvar could see that her mouth hadn’t moved in the slightest. She hadn’t even reacted to the shriek. Both Reaper and Corvar could be certain that they had heard it though; it still echoed in their minds. Then another voice cried out, one that none of them were familiar with. It sounded like a man in intense pain. Then silence again.



The walls of the tunnel widened, soon opening into a large chamber. The darkness seemed to subside, and the sanguine light that the dark siders wielded shone through the room. Ancient metal walkways glinted in the glow, spiraling downward into a circular pit. Centuries old mining equipment and droids, long since rendered inactive, littered various ledges of stone and ore. At the base of a chamber, another dark cavern sucked in whatever light remained. The silence was deafening, weighing upon the group with the force of a Star Destroyer crashing down upon them. It was enough to cause discomfort in both men, but Reaper especially would feel the pressure like a vise on his skull. Both Reaper and Corvar would notice the absence of any kind of evidence of battle. They were simply in an abandoned mine.

TAG: darthkain7, trentongordon 

Malos did not stop Trinaya from handing the woman more food, though he found it foolish. That the stranger hadn't already thrown up what she'd eaten was a miracle; adding on more to puke wasn't going to do her any favors. But that did not matter to him so much, so long as she was able to retain usefulness in combat. But she would have to follow orders, and the language barrier wasn't doing them any favors.
Instead of focusing on what Volacius or Trinaya said, he studied each word the girl now spoke. Most of it seemed like nonsense, other than the word “Jedi”, which Volacius addressed. But she had repeated a phrase that he recognized, if only barely.
“Daritha Venomis.”
Venomis was a word that Malos did not know, but Daritha… In his training, he recalled the word possibly being one of the origins for the Darth title. But what language was it from? Malos barely remembered his studies of his history, and he was most assuredly regretting it now.
He audibly growled because of his frustration, slamming his fist into the nearest wall. The anger numbed the pain that the strike caused, but it was there all the same.
“Daritha,” Malos repeated aloud, mumbling to himself.
Speaking the word seemed to jog his memory ever so slightly, causing him to remember that the language began with an r. But having the language on the tip of his tongue only frustrated him further, causing him to turn to the acolytes. Hopefully one of them were paying more attention to their studies than he did at their age.

“Daritha,” he spoke, “one of the possible orgins for the Darth title. What language was it?” Malos spoke quickly, demanding a quick answer.

TAGS: cliojayne , volacius , @lordjania

__________________________________________

Abandoned Mines, Corbos

Reaper was nodding as Corvar spoke, though Corvar could tell that his suggestion was not entirely to Reaper's liking. To be fair, however, no suggestion other than telling him to charge into the darkness and attack anything that moved would likely satisfy him.
"Lead the way,” said Reaper. “But if we encounter enemies, just know I want to join in on the fun."
Corvar grinned. “I wouldn't have it any other way.” Reaper was a powerful ally, that's why Corvar trusted him with his back. If anything tried to use stealth to its advantage down here, he wanted Reaper to be the first line of defense. He then chuckled, remembering how he felt about Reaper before.
It couldn't have been more than a day ago, when they destroyed that spider droid in Kubjo's arena, but Corvar distinctly remembered not trusting Reaper in the slightest. It was strange how so much conflict in such a short time had brought them together.
Hell, maybe if the entire galaxy had just fought side-by-side a few more times, there'd be peace, Corvar thought jokingly.

As they headed further into the mines, Corvar felt little jolts on his arms each time even the slightest noise was made. Most often it was the sound of water dripping, as most caves were created naturally because of such waters. In other words, it was nothing to be afraid of. But the source of those jolts, Brooke, seemed to be in such a state of fear that anything was enough to frighten her.
“It's alright,” Corvar spoke. He then quickly remembered a lesson from Gravid's holocron, a Jedi teaching. Despite it contradicting the beliefs of those deep in the dark side, Corvar would not dispute it, for time and time again it had been proven down. Leaning down and whispering low enough that only Brooke could hear, Corvar said, “All is as the Force wills it, Brooke. We will be safe.”
That was the major difference between the Jedi and Sith, Corvar found. The Jedi believed in submitting to the will of the Force, while the Sith believed in making the Force submit to their will. To the Jedi, the latter was blasphemy, and to the Sith, the former was weakness. But as far as Corvar could tell, the Force did indeed have a will, and it would make corrections anytime the pendulum swung too far in either direction. Being an instrument of the Force was not his goal, for he intended to wield it as a weapon. Weapons were not to be abused, they were to be cherished in times of peace and used without mercy in times of war.
Hopefully, the Jedi-like words would calm Brooke's nerves a bit. If they didn't, then he did not know how else he could help her beyond leaving these mines, which was not an option. The whisper had grown so loud that it was slowly becoming hard to think, but it was easier that way. The words, while indecipherable, were calming, warm. They washed over him and gave him the bravery needed to continue on. Without them, he feared that he would revert to a child once again.
The thought made the weight on his arm, Brooke, grow much heavier. It felt exactly like the deadweight of his old friend, and the feeling made his stomach turn. He would not let another friend die like that, he could not.
He took a deep breath, pushing the thought away and focusing on each step he took.

They passed around another corner in the darkness, and not a moment later did a scream nearly shatter Corvar's eardrums. He flinched, aiming his lightsaber in the direction of the scream. It sounded like it came from Brooke, but that could not be. Her mouth was closed, and in fact, she had not reacted to the scream herself. He spun around, and noticed that Reaper had heard it as well, just to make sure he was not alone in detecting it. The scream was that of a woman dying, it had to be.
And then another scream rang out, this one of a man in similar pain. But Corvar did not recognize this scream, and he could not tell where it was coming from. No wonder Brooke was terrified of this place; these screams had to be echoes in the Force, replays of someone's death.
But as they entered a large room, one filled with a bit more light than the tunnels, Corvar only noticed rusted mining equipment and droids; no signs of a fight. The utter silence following those screams left him on edge, and he realized that he could no longer hear the whispers.

Oh kriff, no.

Corvar's mind began to scramble as he realized he was stuck underground with no way out in sight. The weight on his arm grew heavier, and he began to remember the taste of his friend's flesh. His memories began flashing in a sickening slideshow of his evil deeds. He remembered cooking Michal's liver with the flames in the palm of his hand the most. Nausea hit Corvar like a Krayt Dragon, nearly causing him to vomit.
The walls are closing in. Must find the sun. Must breathe fresh air. Must escape. Escape. Escape!
But Corvar did not move, anchored to this place by Brooke. His hands began to shake in fear as he studied his surroundings, as he tried to steady his breathing. He quickly realized that the whispers were the only thing keeping him so confident, and he silently cursed his fear. It was weakness. He despised any weakness in himself; it had to be eradicated.
The anger stoked the flames in his heart, keeping the fear at bay if only for the moment. He could not let fear paralyze him; he could not afford weakness. Not now. Not ever.

TAGS: Darth Catalyst , trentongordon

IC: Trinaya and Volacius
Location- Sinister Starship

Trin stepped back a half step to allow the strange woman room to vomit. It wasn’t really surprising, she thought to herself. Anyone would throw up if their first meal after who knew how long was barely edible dog meat. Nodding, more to herself than anyone else, Trin both confirmed the pronunciation of the words as well as in approval for the woman’s intelligence in sipping the water and taking small bites of food. It would do her better in the long run to try to get something down.

“Daritha,” he spoke, “one of the possible origins for the Darth title. What language was it?” Malos spoke quickly, demanding a quick answer.

Trin and Volacius responded at almost the same instant. “Rakatan.”

The Mirialan glared briefly at his compatriot. Such an occurrence reminded him far too much of the childish antics he had partaken in when he was a boy on Ossus. To a normal person, they would be good memories, but for Volacius they had soured as they also served to remind him of his former ignorance, not to mention the horrible series of events that had shortly followed. Nevertheless, the moment passed.

Trin glanced at Volacius with a small smirk. It appeared both of them had paid attention to their studies. The smirk faded as she felt the irritation from him. Apparently he did not share her desire for equal and worthy compatriots/rivals. Turning she watched the strange woman looking across the horizon outside the hatch, wondering what she might be searching for.

Volacius on the other hand was too busy feeling flustered. He hadn’t expected those memories to return, nor had he expected them to hit as hard as they had. Worse, he had shown weakness in front of Malos and his fellow acolyte. Perhaps this is how Trinaya felt back at the campsite, the Mirialan considered. In spite of his best efforts, he felt a hint of sympathy, a tiny remnant of his Jedi past. He snuffed it out as quickly as he noticed it, instead opting to focus on his mission objective, and on Malos’ response to their answer.

darthkain7, @lordjania, cliojayne