Faction A Test of Faith [Sith Academies]

[Confessor Mordred]

Source​

Students of the academy would be gathering around for a special kind of test or exam. While this was mostly presented forth to other mentors and masters of the Sith Order, I had been requested to perform this rite for the current generation of Acolytes and would-be-aspirants of the Sith Order and their connection to the force. The massive figure casting a shadow into the sand beneath my feet. The sun high, waves of heat radiating from the wastes that were behind me. All around us was nothing but an oasis of the mind. A place where the truths of who each student was, would be laid bare for them to truly face.

"Academics, Line up in formation!"

Once it was done so, everyone neatly in lines according to their rank in the Cohorts, as well as separated by their Schooling locations. The plated visor with a laurel of leaves turning between all of them. The reddened eyes piercing through them. A gauge of these students. How far they have come, and how far they will go in the future. Part of that future, was to test their faith in the force, and their own personal beliefs. How much are they willing to trust? if at all? I moved closer and stood before the first row.

"Today is a test of personal strength. Many tests and trials have been of the hunting of beasts, fighting soldiers, Sparring with rivals, and even learning or applying the aspects of alchemy or even magics to create items. Today is not one of those. This is a strength of mental and spiritual fortitude. This will not be easy. Many have died in attempting this feat. And as such, some of you may perish from your own ineptitude."

Turning around, laying upon a small round table were a host of Sith Wayfinders. No lights, no power, no energy flowed from them at all. With a large hand grabbing one, I presented it before them. Holding it high enough that those who may have been in the back could see it. Speaking loud enough with a thunderous voice for them to all hear.

"This is a Wayfinder. However, they do not act as a compass in the conventional sense. They will direct you to the Lost Temple in the Sands. A place where you will be able to return to to create your own Lightsabers or weapons of choice. However, for you to be allowed entry to such a Divine Sanctum of the Dark, you will trek through the sand dunes. Using your connection and faith of the force to lead you to it. Focusing upon the force, connecting to it will show you the way within your mind. Should you be strong enough with your faith and connection, it can lead you directly to it! However, should you not have this-"

Placing it down back upon the table, an open hand waved through the scenery behind me. The winds and sand. A beating sun that scorched everything it touched.

"Then you will perish among the sands, and your name forgotten."

I moved back to stand directly in front of the first row of individuals who stood here. Ready and waiting to receive these wayfinders.

"A note to all of you. There are many things out there that wish to prevent you from reaching your goals. Do not let them. Know that what happens out there, stays out there. I do not believe I need to speak further on the aspect of being a Sith with little supervision of elders. Now, come gather your wayfinder, and set off on your trek."

A sly smile could be heard upon the voice. Deep and using a chest to project it to all.

"May the Force guide you."

 

[Domina Prime]

If You A Demon Show Your Damn Claws
And i'll Introduce The Blood To Flame~
◈
I Was Evil From The Damn Start
I Would Dance on Your Bloody Grave
​

LOCATION: Korriban : Crimson Desert
ATTIRE: Primes Beskar'gam

Confessor Mordred ​

Domina Prime groaned, the effects of the unknown concoctions she'd consumed in the lab trials still twisting her insides. Whatever they'd put in those potions had sent her system into a spiraling madness, but thanks to her bizarre xeno-physiology, she hadn't succumbed to the toxins. Instead, she was left with what could only be described as a brutal hangover, her head pounding and her body sluggish as she sprawled out on a couch in the Academy's lounge. Her massive tail swished lazily, flicking at passing acolytes, drawing uneasy glances from them as the word of a new exam had drawn out most the students.

One unfortunate acolyte, caught in the path of her serpentine appendage, found himself suddenly herded toward her. He froze, eyes wide, and raised his hands in surrender as Domina's claws raked through her wild, unkempt mane.

"And where are we going now, Darkborn?" she asked, voice hoarse, rubbing her lower claws into her face as if waking from a deep slumber.

The acolyte swallowed nervously. "Uh, there's... an exam happening in the desert. We don't know the details yet."

Without waiting for a further response, he attempted to leap over her tail, eager to escape the notorious Mandalorian. Domina snorted, watching him flee with amusement before groaning.

"Oh fun, fun, fun, caaaaaaan't wait," she muttered sarcastically, dragging herself off the couch and following the group in a drunken stumble.

The bright sun scorched her sensitive eyes as she stumbled into the desert, the heat only worsening the throbbing pain in her skull. Her groan echoed across the sandy expanse just as a booming voice barked out commands.

"Academics! Line up in formation!"

The students quickly moved into their respective lines, each aspiring soul separating according to rank and school. Domina, completely indifferent to whatever "formation" meant, swaggered her way to the front of the line. She stood beside a proud-looking acolyte, who raised his chin confidently until Domina's claws hooked into the back of his cloak and yanked him backward. His startled yelp echoed across the desert as she hurled him into the sand.

"Back of the line, junior. Go get yourself a fuckin' kids meal," Domina sneered, her voice laced with amusement. She could feel the daggers of hatred being thrown her way by the other students, but she chittered audibly, clearly unconcerned.

In the end...their HATE wasn't STRONG ENOUGH to stop her.

The humiliated acolyte, glaring furiously, looked to Confessor Mordred for justice, his face flushed with indignation. But before he could speak, Domina snapped her fingers in front of his face, drawing his attention back to her.

"Hey, no. Don't look at him. Look at Prime." Her tone was cold, predatory. "He can't help your weakness."

The acolyte grit his teeth, his fists clenched, but reluctantly obeyed, retreating to the back of the line while throwing hateful glances in her direction. Domina ignored him, satisfied, as she clasped her four arms behind her back and stood tall at the front, exactly where she believed she belonged.

Confessor Mordered, a towering figure clad in dark, intimidating armor, approached the front of the formation, his voice booming as he began to outline the details of the trial. As he spoke, mentioning the potential for a hunt and the likelihood of conflict, Domina's tail rattled with barely contained excitement. Her predatory instincts flared, and her mouth practically watered at the prospect of combat.

"Mmnf, yummy. Finally some good fuckin' food," she purred to herself, her five eyes gleaming with anticipation beneath her helmet.

While the other acolytes shifted uneasily at the mention of potentially not making it back alive and perishing in the desert sands, Domina nearly salivated at the idea. After being cheated out of true combat during the lab trials, her bloodlust had been left unsatisfied. But this? This sounded like something she could sink her claws into. Bullying young Sith aspirants and stealing their treasures?

This was going to be fun.

As the Confessor's speech ended and the trial officially began, Domina cracked her neck and stretched her limbs, her body still aching from the poison, but her hunger for battle burning brighter than ever.

Now she just had to figure out what the FUCK a WAYFINDER was....it'll probably be fine...right?

 

[Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron]

I had not quite been ready for todays exam. Sure we had been told a little earlier today that we would be going through an exam, but not what it would entail. Specifically because we were being led to the furthest area of the Korriban academy and taken to a section where we looked out upon the desert before us. A wrathful place to be. Killing many for generations and kept that way by the Dark side of the force. It was extremely dangerous for anyone, let alone acolytes and apprentices to be roaming it.

So when this hulking man came forward and was explaining everything to us, it took me a little off guard. We would be using the force, focusing on wayfinders, in order for it to work somewhat, possibly, maybe not at all, to lead us to a temple in the desert where if we so choose, could create our lightsaber or weapon of choice. This was a test to prove if we would even be allowed to make one. Let alone actually do anything with it. Of course other students fussed about being front and center, but I just stood there. Waiting patiently through the entire spiel given to us.

What made me really begin to think this man had out out for us, was the note that there would be many things that wished to bring an end to us out there. Was it creatures? Quicksand? Dust devils? Blistering heat? Lack of any water or food? or just as likely, the other students wanting to climb higher through the ranks and take out one of the higher Cohorts so they could get a better spot.

No prying eyes, no communication to the outside. So if one were to become "lost" they were considered as such. No matter how that word was used for this. While I was slightly nervous being in the Third Cohort, I felt not nearly as bad as those who were in the first or second who were here. They would be hunted down even more so than myself.

Wayfinders were being passed out to the students. Receiving one myself, I looked at the square pyramid shape. Really hoping that this was going to be the only test we had today to fight through.

Literally.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Naamino Zuukamano

[ post theme ]​

The military style formation had been... interesting.

The style of organization was something that the young Cathar had only been presented with since arriving at the academy. Growing up in a traditional Cathar tribe, it went without saying that trying to replicate the orderly assembly on Dedoon would have been like herding cats. At the same time, it said something about their Dark Lord for this lesson.

Or field trip.

Or just another random opportunity to prove oneself not die.

In any case, it said something about this Dark Lord. There was a soldierly quality to him. All the more perplexing for the fact that this was not a martial exercise. If anything, it had been presented as a test of faith.

It was also likely to be a test that required some time to complete. So not only was it necessary to arrive at the destination, but one had to be prepared for camping as well. The young Cathar had his hunting knives with him. He wasn't particularly looking forward to slug steaks for dinner, if it came to that, but the choose-your-own-adventure buffet that Korriban offered didn't exactly have a lot of good options.

Then there was some light reading. And, of course, he'd packed a Switch. It was totes a survival necessity. Plus, what part of thirteen years old were you not understanding?

On that note, he'd found another Sith hopeful close to his own age. And a boy, at that.

Sith were not to be trusted. But girl Sith were especially not to be trusted.

Regarding the Sith wayfinder with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, the young Cathar held the four-sided pyramid out for the young Zabrak to inspect for himself.

"I guess our first decision is where to begin," the boy noted. "Pick a direction that just feels right? Or camp here until we have an... an, uh..."

The young kit trailed off, the word in Basic not coming to mind. Gesturing with one hand, the small Cathar tried to find the word for what he wanted to express. "How do you say... mrrrweow..." he mused aloud.

He knew the word in Cathar. Why couldn't the universe just speak cat?

 

[Kivah]

The morning following their hunt Kivah was lining up with the others bright and early. Or behind them. She didn't have a clue what her rank was and hadn't even picked a house thingy. She could see over everyone else anyway. It amazed her how many children there seemed to be ready to launch into the Sith orders. Judging them quietly as the instructor instructed, she picked out a few that she wouldn't lay odds on surviving, some of those the day. One was a horned boy, bald and with a face that looked like it was begging for its owner to be picked on. Then there was Prime. Her presence perplexed the Cathar. Yesterday she'd thought the woman merely there to observe, but now it looked as if she were participating. Why? Kivah had personally seen her engage with Sith Lords and find the experience great fun. Why why why would she be taking the Apprentice exams?

Two guesses on how the wayfinder worked, either it'd lead them straight to the location, in which case the acolytes would move off in a straight line as a big herd, or it would take them on different paths. Kivah was fine with either as they seemed equally easy. She still wore the conforming biosuit and jacket from yesterday, along with a canteen of water and her weapons on her merc gear webbing, with the addition of a z-14. Her bruising from the day before was gone, and the cuts were in the itchy stage where her fur was growing back in, so she felt pretty good about a hike through the wastelands.

Passing Micah, she ruffled his hair as she went by. "Epiphany." She helped without stopping, leaving the two boys to it. The students seemed to be scattering, so Kivah was betting that the wayfinders weren't just pointing in the same direction. In fact, she was willing to bet that there was no straight line to the objective, that there were pitfalls, sinking sand, or cliffs along the direct route to force them to navigate by the artifacts they'd been given. Still, she was willing to bet that even should she become lost, she'd be able to find and track students that weren't.

As for the wayfinder itself, she glared down at it, trying to see indie it or 'push' her awareness into it or whatever. Nothing. She shook it to see if there was a piece loose inside. This might have been easier if she'd ever had a single lesson in how to use the Force.

Micah tol Powl Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron Naamino Zuukamano Domina Prime Confessor Mordred

 

[The Scion]

The Scion frowned.

There was nothing more he disliked than wearing the blasted visor he had on. Yes, it let him hear enough of what was going on to understand the conversation, but he really, really disliked wearing the thing. The only good side to this whole process was the fact that the challenge at hand was about survival. There was nothing more that the boy was content with than just surviving.

It brought a smile to his face. One that showed he had no idea what a smile should look like.

He reached out to take one of the wayfinders, idly letting his senses drift. Then without a moment longer to wait he plucked off his visor and started to walk in the direction he could feel the pull. He'd survive as he always did on these desert worlds.

Kivah | Micah tol Powl | Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron | Naamino Zuukamano | Domina Prime | Confessor Mordred

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Rank and file, standing with spine straight and eyes focused forward, the neat organized structure of it all. That brought him comfort. There was some sense of certainty that could be found standing shoulder to shoulder with your fellow student, maybe even your future fellow soldier. Naamino's body still ached from the inaugural trial, nerves like exposed wires which threatened to zap him should he bump into anything too hard.

It didn't matter though. He'd risen before the sun, he'd done the series of stretches he had been doing since childhood, and he ate a high protein meal before setting out with the other students who'd decided to take on this extracurricular opportunity. Naami had stocked up his model 6 modular backpack the night before. It included enough rations for three days (five if he stretched it and was desperate), a bedroll, as well as his school loaned datapad and a few weapons checked out from the Kor'ethyr armory. The bulk of his pack was water though, two large canteens tucked snuggly on left and right ends of the pack to help balance the weight.

The zabrak felt as prepared as he could for this endeavor, and ultimately had a sense of calm come over him as Confessor Mordred intoned their course ahead. Naami was so pensive in fact that he blinked in surprise as the chatty cathar addressed him as if it was only natural they'd set out together. He sized Micah tol Powl up briefly and found that he was in fact open to working with the boy, albeit still wary of anyone trying to act too friendly.

"Until we get our bearings?" Naami offered helpfully, his voice solemn like his face. The boys gaze followed a different boy who was already setting out. A fellow Zabrak who looked older than him and was strangely separate from anyone else. A tingle went up the back of his spine before he looked away, something about those milky eyes and the way The Scion barred his teeth like a Tuk’ata just felt off.

His attention returned and he held out a freckled hand to take the proffered wayfinder, palm wrapped with moon-blue fabric which matched his horns, the entire outfit it belonged to having been chosen for sun and win protection.

"If you'd like to travel together, then I say we set out now to get a good start. Y'know it gets wicked cold out here so if it's more than a days travel we need to find somewhere safe to wait out night."

The boy's attention was briefly captured by the familiar way a very tall girl brushed past his new companion before she was off and on her way. He shifted the wayfinder to his off-hand, examining it with baby-blue eyes as he offered out his other hand to shake.

"Don't think we've met yet, I'm Naamino Zuukamano."

 

[Chasianna]

Location: Korriban
Tag: Confessor Mordred Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron Micah tol Powl Kivah The Scion Naamino Zuukamano
Direct Engagement: Domina Prime

Exhausted though she might have been from the inaugural trials, Chasianna could not let this particular opportunity pass her by. The rumors had been mixed as to what it was—a rite, a test, or an exam. Regardless, all seemed to agree that it would be a trial of faith, discipline, and strength of will. Thus, the Qilin had dedicated more time than usual to prayer during nights before, thus giving her sore body a temporary reprieve as she sought to strengthen the metaphorical muscles of her faith in turn.

And so, with the call for the students to line up—whether according to their Cohorts or their schools—Chasianna assumed her place in the formation and brought herself to attention. The Confessor spoke then, his booming voice matching his gargantuan stature in both presence and weight. Thus, it was impossible for her to not register his stature compared to her own, with the fact that he was many times her size not being lost on her in the process.

And so too, there were those among the student body who towered over her in much the same fashion.

One such student was Domina Prime , who Chasianna knew by reputation. The Mandalorian-turned-Sith (or Sith-turned-Mandalorian) had arrived at the Kor’ethyr Academy during the inaugural trials, causing no small amount of consternation in the process. To much the same reaction, she had evicted a hapless student from the very front of the formation, leaving the four-armed xeno standing tall and triumphant in his place, occupying a position that caused the tiny Qilin’s cheeks to flush with no small amount of envy.

Shaking her head, Chasianna whispered a short prayer under her breath as the wayfinders were passed out. After raising her hand to accept one, the tiny Qilin regarded the pyramidal device with a narrowed gaze, before bringing it high above her head so that she could better study the markings under the light.

After committing the wayfinder's details to memory, Chasianna placed the device in one of her pockets and turned around, her gaze immediately finding the xeno as she seemed to regard her own wayfinder with what could be interpreted as a questioning expression. Chasianna’s eyes flashed with realization then, immediately sensing an opportunity.

“We might be able to help each other, you know,” Chasianna addressed the towering xeno, keeping an eye on her evershifting tail and lashers in the process. “Or we could just wander aimlessly through the desert. I’ll find the temple on my own eventually of course, but...” The tiny Qilin allowed her words to trail, hanging in the air so that the xenos might give them the full weight of her consideration. “Perhaps we might be faster together. I for one don’t intend for this ‘Lost Temple’ to stay lost to me for long. And if you’re lucky, we could be the first ones there. There might even be artifacts or treasure inside!” She finished, her tone carrying all parts challenge, coyness, and girlish excitement.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Shell Spider Silk Sith Uniform with Synth-Leather Gloves, Boots, and Banded Belt
  
  • Atmosphere Mask
  • Gauntlets
    
    • Gauntlet Comp - R
      
      • Loaded with FAE/S-11 Universal Communication Matrix
  • Utility
    
    • FAE/C-05 Infiltration Suite
    • Fibercord Grappling Hook / Liquid-cable Launcher
    • Aqua Breather
    • Glowrod
    • "PureSucculent" Filtration Straw
    • Energy Capsules
    • Spare Filters
    • Water Canteens
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
• Fuchsia Edge (2)

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Domina Prime | The Scion | Open

Adean's time with the Sith seemed to be a perpetual fluctuation between regretting her life choices and committing to the bit. In this moment, lined up according to rank and school, buffeted by the sands of Korriban, was definitely a moment in which regret took the helm. This is some field trip, she thought, a twinge of bitterness corroding the sentence. The Jutrand Academy had once again proven that it was nothing like any school she'd been to before.

While the sun beat down on the collection of students, Adean could feel the chill in the air and was not fooled. This planet was not warm by design, unlike what many would expect of a land of sand. The academy uniforms would provide little protection should their journey take them into nightfall. A shiver ran down her spine as she considered the very real possibility.

She waited a beat once they were released to pick up their wayfinders, brow furrowing as the incredibly loud one ( Domina Prime ) continued on being, well, incredibly loud. It seemed there was quite an eclectic group of personalities in the other academy. Perhaps she had lucked out with Jutrand. Sliding past some of her fellow classmates, her eyes kept a keen watch on the other students, trying to identify who would be wise to ally with, who to avoid, and so on. Weighing the small pyramid in her hand, she couldn't help but notice one acolyte ( The Scion ) had already began his journey.

"Maybe we should follow that one, at least until we figure these things out," she suggested to no one in particular, curious as to who might take her suggestion up.

 

[Confessor Mordred]

With the words spoken, many of the students were set on the path forward. Handing some of the wayfinders myself to other students, many seemed to be seeking the creation of a team. While yes there was strength in numbers and even more so when it was a dangerous situation, I knew what lay before them. The path presented before them was not just some walk through the desert for a couple days or nights. It would be much more... violent turn of things that would be coming. Notably there were some who sought to trudge onward on their lonesome. Which made sense. Some would find a sense of pride by doing so alone. The feeling of proving one's self through their own exploration and experiences. Of course, students who had already faced harsh conditions, such a poverty upon planets requiring survival of the fittest, would find home not that far away.

Of course, the larger alien creature that seemed to push her way through everyone seemed to be bent on doing their own kind of thing. Sure, that would be useful in some cases, but maybe they could take a lesson or two in the department of subtlety, and humbling. While I was not teaching that lesson today, it was always an enjoyable moment to see it take place. Others that were of a feline like species interacted for a moment before parting in their own groups or on their own. Showing they new each other previously.

Most of these students would, considering they were from the same Academies. However, those who were from different academies would likely be the least likely combination as they knew little to nothing of each other. Say for like the taller white haired noble girl who seemed alone for the moment.

Many were prepared for a trek. Others were clearly not at all. Waking up to this sudden exam was a new thing and would be at a slight disadvantage. Such is the way of life. Such is the progression of those who are strong despite their downfalls and disadvantages. It would be interesting to see where they all would be going.

Of course I would be following some of these groups myself. Keeping an eye on some so that at the very least, someone would make it alive. Would be really bad to return to the other mentors and lords and have some kind of explanation as to why so many of them may or may not have perished within the dunes.

"Alright Students, lets get a move on! Staying here and waiting will be counted as an automatic failure."

Sure, making teams was great, but I needed them to move. Everyone was doing this trek. Even if they didn't want to. Lets just hope some of them could survive the harsh terrain, and worse, the spirits that could be out here.

Adean Castor The Scion Domina Prime Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron Micah tol Powl Kivah Naamino Zuukamano Chasianna

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Naamino Zuukamano

[ montage theme music ]​

"Until we get our bearings?"

The young cat's hand continued to move around, as the boy's head tilted the other direction. "No..." he mused. That wasn't right. What was the word? And why couldn't he think of it?

Kivah happened by at that moment. "Epiphany," the elder Cathar supplied.

"YES! That's it!" the boy snapped, recognition finally snapping into place. Also, louder than he'd intended as a number of eyes were now on the Cathar.

He wouldn't have this problem if people would just meow like regular folks. Was that really asking too much? Why did humans get the monopoly on the intergalactic standard language?

The blue-eyed Zabrak wanted to set out, a plan for which the Cathar was not opposed -- even before Confessor Mordred had mandated that Sith didn't have to go home, but they couldn't stay here. "Micah," the kit supplied as the two started off, accepting the offered hand.

That was it. Just Micah.

"Uhh... I'm still sort of figuring out how Cathar names work in Basic," the boy remarked, as to why just the one name. "I was just excited to see another kid my age. I was starting to feel like the only kitten at the adult table." That probably went hand in hand with why the Cathar's Sith robe was a size extra-extra-small. But seriously, the idea that he'd have someone his age to just... well... act his age with was giving the amber-eyed boy a sense of relief.

"So when I saw you, I just thought, this is perfect. ADVENTURE TIME!" the Cathar declared, thrusting one hand out as if holding an imaginary sword and plunging off to the wastes that probably spelled doom. And sand.

It really got everywhere.

They made good time, but the setting sun brought with it the need to set up camp.

"How can you eat those things?" the Cathar asked, looking with a hefty amount of skepticism toward the other boy's ration bar. Cleaning his knives, the kit had scrounged up a k'lor'slug, which he was presently dressing. He'd offer some to Naami, too, of course. It wasn't exactly appetizing, but when one was camping in the undead valleys of Korriban... slimy yet satisfying was about the best one could hope for.

It was dry enough, he could probably make slug jerky out of some of this.

On the whole, the first night wasn't too bad.

He lost his pillow to a hssiss, that had thankfully gotten a mouthful of that and not his head. And then a Sith undead fellow had generously offered to be their alarm clock.

One of the first lessons every Cathar learned was the importance of cardio in one's daily habits. Good cardio was essential to being a hunter. So, there was nothing like a morning jog to help shake off the cobwebs or doldrums of sleep.

Plus, not to get too personal, but the hssiss and that undead were also right behind them.

"It'd be... like, it'd be really helpful if these told you which way, like, it was supposed to face," the kit remarked sourly, fumbling with the pyramid-shaped wayfinder. He was trying to hold it up to see if it, well, did anything. But then he realized... he had no idea if he was even holding it correctly.

Naami had the Switch, with the kit taking a moment to pause and look over. "No, you need a great... like, either a timed ball or a great ball to capture that one," the boy noted, before holding out the wayfinder.

The two swapped, Micah taking the gaming console and the Zabrak taking the wayfinder.

In terms of progress, they really weren't making much in either respect. Naami didn't even have his first gym badge yet!

 

[Kivah]

In the end, or the beginning, she picked a direction and started walking. She knew the desert wouldn't kill her and she'd already proven herself against the tuk'ata. Angle of the sun was carefully memorized as well as the most visible landmarks. She'd be able to find the spires of the school again, even if hopelessly lost and her survival gear ruined. Eventually. It had been tempting to watch whatever was about to happen between Domina and that short woman, but getting caught up in whatever 'test' the playful xeno decided to launch into would probably have been disastrous.

As she walked, the biosuit's helmet folded over her head, blocking the glare of the sun and reclaiming the moisture she breathed out. The boots adjusted to the shifting sands to help her footing, and her strides grew longer and more confident. Kivah still didn't know where she was going, but movement always made her feel better, like she was moving towards a goal.

An hour later and she was glowering down at the Wayfinder again. The stupid thing still wasn't working for her and she was growing frustrated. She was spread out from the others now, the closest barely recognizable as they crossed a distant dune. Sitting down, Kivah placed the device in the sands before her and concentrated on it. From the Confessor's speech, she knew she'd need the Force, to connect with it somehow. Faith had never been something she'd bothered with, but maybe this was more a self-confidence thing. Knowing the Force would be there for you when called on.

Remembering back to that moment on Faldos when the Force had flooded through her for one glorious, mind shattering moment, Kivah tried to reach for that again. It hadn't been the first time, she knew that now, just the moment of recognition. Internally fumbling for that feeling and not finding it, growing frustrated, angry. The sun had set when she snatched the device and stood to throw the infernal thing. Pulling her hand back, she noticed a faint red glow emanating from between her fingers. Staring down at it, she realized something else, she hadn't been about to throw it in the direction she'd been facing. A new heading.

Laughing at her improved fortune, Kivah drank from her canteen before setting off again. She felt good! Totally refreshed. And the night belonged to the Cathar. Another two or three hours marching, and she'd stop for a little nap before the sun rose.

Adean Castor The Scion Domina Prime Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron Micah tol Powl Naamino Zuukamano Chasianna Confessor Mordred

 

[Domina Prime]

All Sinners Come Down, Come Gather Round
◈
Have A Little Fun Before They Put Us In The Ground

​

LOCATION: Korriban : Crimson Desert
ATTIRE: Primes Beskar'gam

Naamino Zuukamano | The Scion | Micah tol Powl | Kivah | Svenja Fürstin Von Exocron | ​

Domina Prime stood at the front of the formation, her towering presence unmistakable among the ranks of Sith acolytes. Envious and furious eyes lingered on her, a Mandalorian out of place on Korriban, as Confessor Mordred explained the nature of the trial. They were being cast out into the scorching desert, tasked with locating a "lost temple" hidden somewhere amidst the dunes. On a nearby table sat strange holocron-like devices known as Wayfinders, shimmering in the harsh sunlight as each acolyte approached to claim one.

Domina's five alien eyes fixated on the Wayfinders, her tail swishing, whipping, and whirling behind her like an excited pup's. The gleam of the Wayfinders in the light mesmerized her, her focus so sharp that she barely registered the incredibly short woman standing beside her Chasianna and Adean Castor , speaking directly to her.

"Maybe we should follow that one, at least until we figure these things out," Adean spoke, gesturing to one of the many who had just wandered out into the desert. More specifically, the Zabraki boy The Scion .

"We might be able to help each other, you know," the other stranger said, her voice calm yet laced with ambition. Domina's gaze remained locked on the shimmering Wayfinders, her pupils dilating as one by one, the devices disappeared into the hands of the acolytes. "Or we could just wander aimlessly through the desert. I'll find the temple on my own eventually, of course, but... perhaps we might be faster together. I, for one, don't intend for this 'Lost Temple' to stay lost for long. And if you're lucky, we could be the first ones there. There might even be artifacts or treasure inside!"

Domina's trance finally broke as her neck snapped down to look at the tiny woman, blinking in confusion. "H-huh? What? Who, Dima?" she mumbled, her voice still distant as she glanced around to make sure the woman was indeed speaking to her. "Umm, yeah, lady! That sounds like a great idea guys, just uhhhh... one second."

Without further explanation, Domina skipped out of the line and made a beeline for the table with the Wayfinders, her massive tail smashing sloppily into the sand as she approached. The instructor raised an eyebrow, clearly noting the bubbling excitement in the Mandalorian as she reached for one of the few remaining devices. She plucked one from the table, holding it up to the light like a jeweler inspecting a fine gem.

Then, her whole demeanor shifted. The once gleeful energy drained from her body, replaced by a deep, crestfallen disappointment. Her Wayfinder—though functional—was rusted, its metallic surface pitted and dull, a far cry from the brilliant shine of the others. The luster had long since faded, and Domina's heart sank behind her mask.

"O-oh no...no no no...this isn't right~" she mumbled childishly, her tail, once full of energy, now rattling dangerously in frustration. She watched the other acolytes gleefully taking off into the desert with their gleaming Wayfinders, while she held her dull, rusted device.

With a dramatic toss, Domina flung her Wayfinder into the sand, abandoning it in protest. Who needed a navigation device when she had her own methods? Her five eyes darted to the group of students gathering nearby, most of them sticking together for safety.

She looked over her shoulder at Adean Castor and Chasianna , then looked to all the others wandering into the desert.

There was a primitive itch in her bones that could not be ignored.

And so, rather the others went the same direction or not Domina followed the random acolytes at a distance, her enormous silhouette cast long across the desert sands as the sun began to sink toward the horizon. The students sensed her presence, turning to glance over their shoulders from time to time. But each time they did, they found her standing innocently in the distance, waving at them in a bizarre display of mock friendliness. Uneasy glances passed between the acolytes, but they pressed on, not daring to confront the out-of-place Mandalorian just yet.

As night began to creep in, Domina drew closer, so blatantly obvious in her approach that it became impossible to ignore her any longer. She loomed over the group, her presence casting a dark shadow as they finally turned to face her.

"What sparkles, shimmers, shines, and delights... it must be Primes," Domina announced, her voice filled with unsettling glee. The acolytes stared at her, hands inching toward their lightsabers. She didn't seem to be carrying any visible weapons, only her claws extended expectantly, as though she anticipated being given something.

"We've nothing for you, creature," one of them snarled, stepping forward with his lightsaber hilt at the ready. "Everyone has the same equipment. We suggest you find another group."

Domina's shadow darkened over them as she loomed closer. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's not true, is it?" Her voice dropped into a deadly whisper, her tail rattling in agitation. "You have everything Prime wants."

Before they could react, she struck. With a flash of azure claws and deadly precision, Domina unleashed a violent attack, her crystalline talons clashing with the glowing blades of lightsabers. Panic erupted in the group as they struggled to maintain their defenses. Her movements were swift, terrifyingly precise, as if she were toying with them. One unlucky acolyte was sent flying through the air, crashing into the sand after a brutal whip of her tail.

"This would be easier for everyone if you just submit!" she roared, her voice dripping with fury as she slammed one acolyte to the ground, her talons sinking into his chest, crushing his ribs with ease. His lightsaber clattered uselessly to the side as Domina snarled, eyes wild with hunger for violence. The desert echoed with the sounds of her feral assault, the scent of blood and burnt ozone filling the air as she dispatched the remaining students, one by one.

By the time she was done, she stood over their shattered bodies. The had refrained from killing most of them, maiming or crippling them instead the more they resisted her will. Dominas chest heaved as she let out a long, satisfied sigh, wiping the blood from her claws. She whistled aloud and began to search their cloaks as they wheezed, groaned coughed and struggled in the bloody sands, pulling from their corpses Wayfinders that glittered and gleamed in the pale moonlight. Taking one…then another, even a third and stuffing them deep into her cloak with giddy delight. Part of her wondered if Adean Castor or Chasianna were anywhere nearby considering they had offered to team up but in Dimas moment of devilish intent she had become...distracted.

And what sweet, delicious distractions they were.

"Beautiful and precious little things...perfect for Primes collection~" She purred audibly in delight, her many eyes now flicking along the desert horizons. She was starting to wonder if she could manage to snatch the wayfinders from every group, potentially trapping them in the desert and gate-keeping their journey to godhood.

And that thought...brought a smile to her face.

So...who was next on the menu?

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Though a bit perplexing, Naami found his new companion to be capable and enjoyable company indeed. They set off and despite their marked differences, the Zabrak boy found that he might actually be more similar to Micah than he'd believed at first. In truth, it was just nice to spend time with a boy his age for a while. Even if it meant risking death in the desert.

"Necessity," Naami responded simply to the boy's skeptical question.

"Cool knives," he added, a rare smile gracing his oft stern face, dimples just barely forming before disappearing behind stoicism again.

The zabrak of course accepted a bite of slug, not wanting to be rude. He complimented the kit's hunting skills and offered some of his ration bar as well, but it seemed that each boy preferred their own food more than the idea of eachother's.

Night brought with it a few interesting challenges, but they remained largely unscathed. Naami lay awake longer than he should have perhaps, watching the stars turn overhead and musing about piloting through that glorious vastness. His transport shuttle to reach Korriban had been the his first foray into space (that he could recall) and he felt the call to return. That night he dreamt of a perfectly tailored uniform, of stepping foot on a top of the line battlecruiser that he held command over.

The boy blinked as his friend grumbled, Naami's focus had been entirely consumed by the mesmerizing gaming device. It took a bit for Micah to explain the concept and controls but the Zabrak soon took to it like a Tut'aka to guarding tombs. He handed the device off and sighed at the wayfinder. Sand seemed to have found its way into every layer of clothing, it caked to exposed skin when he sweat as they trekked, and his normally clean fingernails were gritty with it.

He picked absently at one nail with his other hand, scowling at the wayfinder in his lap. The ridges of his cheekbones were starting to burn a bit, so he wrapped his sand veil tighter and wracked his mind. What had Confessor said? This was about faith, about their connection to the force.

"Hey, keep watch for a bit? I'm-" he paused, a little self conscious, "I'm gonna try to meditate about it."

The boys had a similar routine of waking up and exercising, it had actually been a really pleasant surprise to Naami that the companion he'd set out with seemed to match his day to day stride so well. But this- meditation, that felt different and it wasn't as if he really knew what he was doing. He was determined though and something was telling him that despite his logic telling him to keep making progress by moving, it was time to sit still.

Naami stopped fidgeting and fussing with irritating sand, instead dropping his hands to cradle the wayfinder in the lap of crossed legs. He glanced a bit self consciously at Micah but resolved to prove himself to his companion rather than worry about the alternatives. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. The passing of time shifted for him without his knowledge, Micah tol Powl might think the boy had dozed off if not for the fact his spine stayed straight with shoulders set back.

For his part, Naami felt like he was calmly slipping into a state of pristine focus and calm. Why had he never meditated before? This felt so clarifying. The blurred monochrome semidarkness of his closed eyes seemed to be giving way to a strange star scape- almost like he was suddenly seated amidst the stars he'd been gazing at the night before, even though his body remained nestled in the sand.

Despite the strangeness, he felt right at home and redoubled the focus on their task: finding a temple. Instead of trying to bring an unknown destination to mind, Naami put his will into somehow gaining access to that hidden information, to be granted access so he could know the unknown. Suddenly he felt hands upon his shoulders and all at once there was a mat sat cross legged in front of him- mirroring his position.

"Dad?" He wondered.

Naami wouldn't know, his parents were gone before his first birthday, dead in a bombing by the Galactic Alliance. But still, the figure sat across from him looked awfully familiar. Tall, broad shouldered, wearing traditional Iridonian robes. The man's hands moved to mime how Naami held the way finder, acting out how to change the grip of his hands upon it and imparting how the boy ought to breathe- exemplifying yet more focus on the task at hand. Naami followed suit and Micah would see the way his hands shifted- might even feel a ripple in the Force.

But the boys were no longer alone in their little zone of desert and something crept closer, thinking that the sleep-seated boy would make for an easy target, that surely the cathar kit was too small to defend their pack member and would make for a scrawnier meal than the spiky one. That stalking menace prepared to pounce just as Naami's eyes sprang back open.

"I know the way!"

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Naamino Zuukamano

"Hey, keep watch for a bit?"

"Meow," the young Rho uttered, without looking up from his game. Sure. Whatever.

"I'm-- I'm gonna try to meditate about it."

Large, luminous amber cats eyes just blinked. His orange head coming up, as the small Cathar turned to regard his companion with a look of surprise, followed by skepticism, which finally settled into a certain cathole smugness as the kit flippantly replied, "Pffft... okay, Jedi."

Seriously. Meditate about it? That was such a Jedi thing to say.

Of course, the Sith had splintered off from the Jedi, so by extension it was also such a Sith thing to say, but, let him have it. It was hard to find material for poking fun at someone when you were lost in the desert of a Holy Sith world, surrounded by undead and sithspawn. This was like the most material Micah had to work with since they'd set out.

If he'd known they were going to be out here for this long, he'd have brought some extra games with him. As it was, all he had was Endormon Let's Go and Untitled Porg Game. He could have brought The Secret of Mynock Island or even Event Horizon: Zero Dawn..

Naami wasn't getting a cat nap in on him, was he?

Putting the Switch away, the young kit crouched down by the Zabrak boy. Even waved a clawed hand in front of the other boy's face. No, he wasn't sleeping. But it seemed he had definitely checked out.

Straightening back up, the young Rho paced around where Naami was doing his best Obi-Lame Jeedi impression. The sun was bearing down on them and the winds suggested that a sandstorm may be brewing. Like with the Zabrak, the kit was caked in sand. But, as irritating as it was, it was also something he was used to. Part of the reason the Powl tribe had settled on the desert moon of Tenoo was precisely because it was basically one giant litterbox.

After he'd circled around the other boy three times, the Cathar sat down so that the two were back to back. And then slid down, stretching out before he curled up.

He wasn't napping. He was just conserving energy. Totally not a cat nap.

The boy began to purr softly as the time passed, basking under the sun with his claws occasionally digging into the sand as if kneading biscuits.

Then the purring abruptly stopped.

His hands slowly pulled back. His posture hadn't changed, but his muscles were now tensed -- as if ready to pounce.

Everything seemed to move at once.

The Zabrak boy suddenly snapped back to reality. "I know the way!" the boy exclaimed.

A dagger flew by his head the same moment, as Micah came off the ground and unsheathed the blade with a smooth, practiced motion that was accompanied by a roar that was actually embarrassingly high-pitched. Micah didn't so much sound like a majestic lion as he did a 13 year old girl whose tail had gotten burrs in it.

"MRRRREOW!" the Cathar exclaimed, as the dagger sank into the hssiss that had been lunging for the Zabrak boy. "Uh, I mean, great!" he amended, switching to Basic, having drawn his other knife. Spinning the handle in his palm, the boy reverse his grip on the handle and then seemed to stab violently at empty air.

There was a squeal as the blade stuck in the throat of the second hssiss, whose body seemed to appear out of nowhere behind the Cathar. Casting the writhing beast down, the young Cathar slung the blood off his blade as he called out, "It's close, right?"

Dagger leveled and murder plain in his eyes, the Cathar then lunged for the wounded hssiss that had first tried to ambush them. Its death wailed echoed through the valley around them as the spry, young hunter rolled up to his feet.

Looking down at himself, the Cathar was mildly distressed by the amount of blood covering him. For one thing, sithspawn blood tasted horrible. So there was no way he was licking this off. Maybe they'd find an oasis or something where he'd have to take a bath. Or, better yet, maybe this temple they were going had actual refresher facilities.

On that note, he realized that Naami hadn't answered him.

"It's close... right?"

It was not close.

On the plus side, if there could be said to be a plus side, the Cathar smelled like a hssiss. So at least most of the bad stuff that wasn't a lumbering, lightning-casting zombie had avoided the pair. But, by the same token, it made hunting extremely difficult since anything that got a wiff of him immediately took off.

He'd used up the last of his slug jerky and so, grudgingly, was now taking a bite out of one of Naami's military surplus survival rations. "Ughhh..." the boy lamented, giving a shudder.

It was a good thing the Zabrak was cute, or else the Cathar might be tempted to find out what Iridonian tasted like.

The Cathar just blinked. A faint blush colored the pale patches on his face. He had no idea why that thought had just popped into his head. About Naami being cute that is, not the eating him thing.

"So... how close are we now?" the boy asked, hoping for something that would distract him from... well, whatever was happening in his brain right now.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

One moment he was in a trance and the next he felt absolutely certain he knew precisely where and when the temple would appear. His epiphany might have cost him his life if it weren't for his fast acting companion. Naami sat there stunned for a moment, watching the kit singehandedly dispatch two enemies with competence the Zabrak envied dearly. His blue eyes were wide with admiration, awe temporarily stalling his response.

"Uhhh-" was the only answer he gave besides a regretful shake of the head.

The sandstorm that had been threatening to form in the middle distance for quite some time finally seemed to boil over to the point of a full blown weather event. Micah and Naami had trudged in the direction the Zabrak felt unexplainably pulled toward by the wayfinder until the whipping winds and blinding sand made them hunker down for a time.

Mercifully the pair had found a rocky outcropping to nestle themselves beside, Naami doing what he could to shelter the smaller boy by turning his back to the unforgiving wind and hunching his shoulders a bit. The information he'd downloaded on his datapad led him to believe that generally sand storms in this approximate sector of desert generally blew over within a few hours. He could only hope that was true. With sharing his rations and with how far he thought they'd come, his water was getting stretched thin and he would likely need to figure out how to hunt or go hungry on the journey back.

Micah's question pushed those brooding thoughts away from the forefront of his mind and Naami considered him while he decided how to break the news to him. Something distracted him though and he brought a forefinger up to gently prod at the boy's cheekbone, distracted with a faint concern.

"Think you're getting sunburnt," he concluded, oblivious to the inner workings of his companion.
"Here," and Naami began unwinding one of his hand wraps as if to offer it to his friend- to provide whatever protection it might against sun and sand.

The wrap was moon blue and one of the only things that still fit him properly from home. He'd been going through another growth spurt and would soon have to write to his aunt about it. Naami pulled the sleeve of his cloak down to make sure his skin remained shielded, deciding to finally break the news to Micah tol Powl .

"Do not call me a Jedi ever again," he warned in a voice that wasn't yet deep enough to be considered commanding, "but I feel like this thing is telling me we're basically in the right spot. I think… I'm pretty sure we have to wait for the right moment but that we've found the right place. When the storm clears we can climb up this outcropping to get a look around."

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Naamino Zuukamano

They were sheltered from the storm.

So why did he feel out of breath? As the pair nestled in the niche in the rock, the young cat found himself in the Zabrak's shadow as the older boy positioned himself to shield the entrance. Something seemed to set the small kit on edge. His entire body tensed as if he was ready to bolt at any moment.

Then the Zabrak seemed to lean close.

The Cathar's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to run and didn't know why, but was frozen as his heart seemed ready to explode in his chest. He found himself fixed on Naami's eyes, as though falling through a portal into blue skies.

"Think you're getting sunburnt." The words caught the cat by surprise, as the Zabrak poked at his cheek.

The Cathar had broken out into a sweat. Drawn out of his reverie, or daydream, or whatever that was... the boy was left wondering: what had happened just now?

Naami was talking.

...was Micah supposed to be listening? He should probably be listening. To something other than the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. Fidgeting with the cloth now in his hands, the boy just gave a nod as he tried to focus.

Storm clears. Look around.

"Oh... okay," the boy uttered meekly, feeling like his mouth had gone completely dry.

The wind howled and the boy feared they were likely going to be in here for awhile to come. He tried to pull out his Switch, but the last of the power cell had already run out.

...so what were they going to talk about? That sports team? The latest issue of Star Battles comic book?

"Could... could you show me how you did that thing?" the boy asked quietly, starting to look at the other boy and then diverting his eyes away before he got lost again. "That thing with the wayfinder, I mean."

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

That stern expression deepened, actual concern beginning to seep through his otherwise stoic demeanor. Was his new friend getting sick? Or perhaps the time in the desert was taking its toll- it could have been the last of that slug jerky the boy insisted on eating earlier. But then Micah tol Powl seemed to shake off whatever malaise had hold of him, his voice rising in answer then in question though not with the same self assuredness that the zabrak now associated with him.

Naami nodded first in answer, then made to place the wayfinder in the palm of his companion's hand. He started in a stern tone, his eyes looking hard as gemstones.

"Ok but you have to promise, not to call me a Jedi again."

The insistence of his voice soon gave way to a softening at the corners of his mouth, the threat of a smile not fully realized as he tried his hand at giving his new friend a hard time. Naami soon continued, not fully confident that his humor was yet well practiced enough.

"So, I started by putting it over one heart," he sometimes forgot that other near humans did not have two, "-and I thought about how much this means to me, how important it is to love myself, to find my way."

The near mirth or levity from before faded and he grew serious again, guiding Micah's other hand to hover atop the wayfinder as the other cradled it to his slender chest.

"Not sure how else to say it… maybe close your eyes? That helped me. Ask the Force to guide you- make sure it knows why it's important you find your way."

 

[Kivah]

At night and during the storm, Kivah buried herself in the sands. Her suit and body heat keeping her comfortable until she emerged again. A quick cleaning of her weapons and gear, ensuring the sand wouldn't jam a knife in its sheath or foul her blaster and other gear. The canteen on her webbing was doing a pretty good job of keeping itself full, before the vaporating canteen had been a novelty, now it was the only thing keeping her from needing the recycled water inundating every fiber of her bio suit. Living on a ship for an apartment, Kivah had gotten used to the idea fairly quickly, oftentimes it was even better than the Mondder city public water works. It just seemed different to her now that she was wearing the recycler, and it was biological.

The wayfinder continued to tug at her, and as time passed, it became easier to induce the device to show her the way. She didn't need to become as enraged or for as long, and the directions became more clear as Kivah learned to focus and listen to the thing. No longer did she have to rely on gut instinct nudged along by the pyramid to know the way.

Other than the constant walking in the shifting sands and occasional undead shambling through the desert, the hike wasn't that bad for her. Very boring though, and she often caught herself humming a part of a song over and over as it stuck in her head. Next time she was bringing a music player. The scenery was pretty, especially in the early morning and sunset when the land was lit in golden orange and purples. The setting was probably ideal for connecting to the Force, something she took full advantage of. She'd never consciously used it before, and felt very behind now. Any moment not spent walking, sleeping, or surviving was given over to experimentation and trying to meditate or force a deeper connection.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Naamino Zuukamano

The young cat gave a happy sound, pulling his legs in so he was seated in a lotus position as it seemed that they were about to get to...

...well, he really didn't know. Force stuff. That.

The boy closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he felt Naami place the wayfinder in his hand. And then, repeating the words of the wise teacher, began to say, "Okay, but I have to promise to not... wait, what?"

Large, amber cats-eyes blinked open. The expression on his face changing several times. Confused. Stunned. Not amused.

The Iridonian boy was smiling. Had... he smiled before? Micah didn't think that he'd seen Naami smile before. It would have been cute if it wasn't also annoying.

...all right, he lied. It was totally cute.

What were they talking about again? The boy blinked a second time. "Wait, one heart? You have more than one!?" Did he know that? Should he know that? Had they studied Zabrak physiology yet? They'd done a Gamorrean dissection lab. Then there was the whole B'omarr brain-in-a-jar thing...

Zabraks had their genitals in the right place though, right?

...wow, phrasing. Not judgmental at all. What should he have thought? The usual place? Like the usual suspects? Zabraks were a binary gender species. And Naami was a boy. Well, at least, Micah thought he was a boy. He hadn't actually asked his pronouns or...

Exhaling forcefully, the boy tried to quiet his mind. Tried being the operative word. Not thinking about anatomy or anything weird like that. Force stuff. Yes, that was the proper term. Force stuff. Sith wayfinder. The dark side of the Force... "I don't think this is working, Naa--" the boy began, as his eyes fluttered open.

Except there was no one there.

"Naami?" the boy asked, shrinking slightly as he was suddenly afraid. He realized then that this wasn't the outcropping. The wind was gone. Just darkness. An empty void that seemed to stretch out in all directions.

He started to stand, when it seemed as though there was now nothing beneath his feet. MRRRRREOW! the boy screeched, as he went tumbling backwards into the spiraling void.

...and landed in a chair. At a desk.

His desk.

At least, he thought it was his desk? This looked like one of the Sith Academy classrooms, but he couldn't place exactly which classroom this was. The students and professors were nothing more than shadows. The other students were putting away their materials, as though preparing for an exam.

"Wait, there's a test?" the boy realized, a mild panic gripping him as he began fumbling through his desk, as if rummaging for any clue as to which class he was even in. "But, I don't even know what subject this is!"

He pulled his hand back. He was holding a knife.

The desk had vanished. The classroom faded into obscurity. Standing in front of him was an Iridonian boy with blue eyes.

The young cat looked up at the familiar figure. "Naami!" he sighed with relief. Then gave a yelp as he recalled the blade in his hands, dropping it as though embarrassed to be caught holding it.

Chains came up, wrapping themselves around the boy's arms.

Had he failed the test? "I don't want to hurt him. I just want to be his friend."

More chains appeared, wrapping themselves around the boy. "I do!" the cat protested, feeling one wrap around his neck. Struggling for breath, he uttered, "That's why I spoke to him in the first place!"

The chain tightened around his neck. He felt the steel links biting into his throat, as another chain wrapped itself around his face like a gag. Suffocating and silenced, the boy continued to struggle. Because it was true.

...until it wasn't.

I don't want to be his friend? It was a thought. Fleeting, just a moment. But the chains fell away as the boy once again looked upon the form of the blue-eyed Iridonian boy.

"I spoke to him because..."

There was a reason. He knew there was a reason when he'd gone over to address the other boy.

It had been reckless. Out of character. But he'd done it anyway.

Why?

"Because..." the boy began, feeling the chain tighten around his wrists. "Because... he's cute?"

With a lurch, the boy found himself back underneath the outcropping. Naami's hand still on the wayfinder.

"I'm gay?"

Yes, he'd just blurted that out. Quite breathlessly, I should add. For some reason, he felt as though he'd just run a marathon.

Then the weight of what he'd said began to sink in. Forcing a laugh, the boy's hair stood on end as he tried to play it off. "Wow. That was crazy. Totes cray-cray. I mean... I don't know why I said that. Did you say gay? No, I meant... I meant..."

What would Naami think? He didn't even know what to think! Naami would probably think he was some kind of freak.

Oh, god, what if Naami thought that Micah had been hitting on him? Wait, had he been hitting on him? What did 'hitting on someone' even mean? Was it like the whole bro-fist power-bump thing?

Did that make this a date? He wasn't ready to date! He was thirteen!

"HAPPY!" the boy exclaimed forcefully. "Like, I'm so happy that... that... you showed me that. The meditation technique, I mean. Because WOW. Like, wow. The Force, you know? Right?"

Finally pausing to try and catch his breath, the boy looked anxiously up at the Zabrak. Expecting to see damnation there. Expecting to be spit upon or cast out into the storm. Expecting...

...he wasn't really sure. He just suddenly felt really isolated and uncertain of, well, everything.

"I'm going to stop talking now."

Pushing the wayfinder back into the Iridonian boy's hands, the boy reached back and flipped the hood of his robe up over his head, as though trying to hide in the cowl.