Private Ancient Aliens

[Darth Virelia]

"Jungle Trip."

Tags - Darth Anathemous



Virelia's stride never faltered.

If anything, the question only deepened the molten current in her voice when she finally answered.

"You didn't."

Two words—soft, unhurried, but carrying the weight of inevitability. They lingered in the air like the scent of ozone before a storm, wrapping around Kaila's doubt with silken finality.

Her claws flexed gently at the small of Kaila's back, not to restrain but to remind—remind her who had led her this far, who had coaxed those words from her lips. "And yet," she continued, turning her head just enough that her voice ghosted near Kaila's ear, "you keep looking for ways to convince yourself this was a mistake. That if you hesitate long enough, if you keep testing the edges of my web, you'll find a way out."

The hand at her back slid upward in a slow, deliberate path, tracing along the line of her spine. "But you won't," Virelia murmured, not as a threat, but as an undeniable truth. "Because every time you hesitate, every time you try to remind yourself of the reasons you should resist me… you step closer instead."

Her tone softened then, the words sinking into something dangerously comforting. "I don't want you to lie to yourself, Kaila. You like it. You like being seen. Desired. You like the way it feels to be wanted not for what you pretend to be, but for what you are—and for what I can make of you."

Her claws stilled between Kaila's shoulder blades, resting there with a weight that was both grounding and possessive. "You didn't say no," she repeated, her voice like silk drawn taut. "And that matters more than all the hesitation in the galaxy." She drew in close enough that the warmth of her breath brushed the side of Kaila's neck. "So keep hesitating if you must, little star. It changes nothing. You're still here. You're still mine."

And with that, Virelia moved forward again, guiding her toward the forge without loosening her hold for even a moment.

 

[Darth Anathemous]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Darth Virelia

"Hm." she supposed that was answer enough.

She found herself leaning closer, tiredly, towards Virela's warmth in that cold underground. It was enough to press a small part of her unnatural weight against her. Not only the weight of secrets buried beneath muscle and scar tissue for the spider to uncover in due time, but the weight of responsibility she'd put on herself.

Kaila was many things. Emotional. Anathema. Violent and tender all this and more was hers now.

Even the parts she may come to loathe.

"I am here." she echoed, resting her head against the spider's shoulder.

"My dreams. My desires. My habits and faults."


"...I hope you realize the gravity of what you've acquired..."

"That there are some things for which I do not hesitate. And I never will."

A threat or a promise, it was often hard to tell with her.

Armor and silk rustled as she turned to look up at Virelia through one golden eye, half lidded. The exertion of her force rage had whittled down that iron defiance, and despite the anxiety which pooled in her stomach like black bile, the young Darth seemed to begrudgingly lower her guard.

"Is the forge operable or is this another test?"

"I'm... tired..."

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Jungle Trip."

Tags - Darth Anathemous



Virelia's arm adjusted around her without thought, the subtle pull drawing Kaila just that fraction closer until the faint scrape of armor against armor became a steady, shared rhythm. The gesture was possessive—but the warmth it carried in the cold depths of the underground was undeniable.

"You are here," she echoed, her voice like molten glass—soft enough to shape, hot enough to sear. "And everything you've named—your dreams, your desires, your habits, your faults—yes, I realize their gravity." Her claws traced lightly along the contour of Kaila's hip, each pass deliberate, unhurried. "I took them the moment you gave me that word. And I intend to keep them. All of them."

She tilted her head, the sharp geometry of her mask angling toward that single golden eye. "A threat, a promise—it makes no difference. I thrive on both." The words dripped with a heat that made them almost indistinguishable from a confession. "Because whether you hesitate or act without a second's thought, whether you offer me your defiance or your devotion…" Her voice lowered to a purr, heavy with inevitability. "…you are still mine."

Virelia shifted then, the gauntlet at Kaila's spine gliding upward until it rested just beneath her shoulder blades. The touch was light, steady—anchoring without force. "The forge is operable," she said simply. "It has been since before you arrived. But whether we walk to it now…" She let the pause breathe between them, her gaze unblinking. "…or whether you rest first, that choice belongs to you."

It was permission she offered. The rarest currency for someone like Kaila, who had spent a lifetime convincing herself that no one could grant her anything she didn't seize for herself.

Her claws eased fractionally, the contact softening without lessening. "You've bled for me today. Shaped fire with your rage. Stared into your own chains and dared to imagine them broken. That takes more than strength—it takes pieces of you you don't grow back in hours." The faintest incline of her head, almost tender. "So yes, you may rest. Here. With me."

 

[Darth Anathemous]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Darth Virelia

Her lips pursed.

So that was it then? She was wanted, unconditionally.

Well, save the one, of course. If that was all she had to do for it then Kaila could be content. And for the first time in... ever, she felt at peace in her presence. It was strange to think how many times they'd nearly come to blows before this moment, that she once silently vowed to kill Serina for everything she had done.

For Susevfi.

"Mmh." she groaned tiredly, softly.

"Mission first. show me the forge."

Kaila nuzzled closer, even her gaze was fixed ahead—always—towards the objective. The glowing circuitry along the walls was becoming tighter now, more chaotic, as they neared the forge from which it all sprang.

"And then..." she groaned again.

"Then we can rest."

Not I.​

We.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Jungle Trip."

Tags - Darth Anathemous



Virelia did not miss the shift—the subtle choice of we instead of I.

It was not surrender, not yet, but it was the first coiling of silk around a willing limb.

Her claws flexed at Kaila's hip, a quiet, claiming pressure, before she began to guide her forward. "Mission first," she murmured, her tone equal parts agreement and command. "Then the rest. Together."

The walls pulsed with an erratic green glow as they walked, the veins of Rakatan circuitry feeding on the latent power in the air. Without breaking stride, Virelia's free hand lifted, palm brushing against a junction of conduits. The instant her gauntlet touched, the light stilled. The chaotic flicker became an orderly pulse—her pulse—each beat matching the slow, deliberate rhythm of her breath.

"You see…" Her voice was low, molten, carrying the weight of both knowledge and indulgence. "This place recognizes authority. It recognizes strength. And it recognizes me." The conduits shuddered as the connection deepened; great, ancient doors ahead of them hissed and groaned, locking mechanisms releasing without any of the trials the Forge's builders had intended. "The Rakata would have tested you here—forced you to prove yourself again before they granted passage."

A slow, amused hum followed. "I've decided to skip that part. Consider it… my gift to you. For being so obedient."

The doors parted with a final hiss, revealing the Forge's heart—a cavernous chamber of obsidian and emerald light, where arcs of contained plasma danced between towering pylons. The air was hot, metallic, heavy with the scent of ancient power. Runes older than recorded history glowed faintly along the walkways, while in the center, a massive assembly dais waited—ready to birth weapons worthy of kings, emperors… and empresses.

Virelia did not release her hold on Kaila as she led her toward the dais. The hum of the Forge seemed to follow them, as though acknowledging their presence. "Now…" she said, her six-eyed mask turning toward Kaila, "tell me—do you have a saber you wish reforged? One with history, weight, something worth transforming?"

Her claws lifted from Kaila's hip just enough to turn her, one hand resting at the small of her back. "Or do you come to me with only the desire, and none of the steel yet to house it?" The question was not mocking—it was laden with promise. "If so, I will see to it the components are made. From nothing, if necessary. Forged here, in this place, under my hand… it will be more than a weapon. It will be an extension of you."

Her helm inclined fractionally, her tone softening without losing an ounce of possession. "So choose, Kaila. Will we give new life to something old… or will we create something wholly yours?"

The words lingered, their echo mingling with the Forge's thrum. And though her voice carried no threat, her grip—still resting lightly but firmly at her back—was reminder enough that either choice would still be bound in the same truth: whatever was made here would be hers… and Virelia's.

 

[Darth Anathemous]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Darth Virelia

"I've decided to skip that part. Consider it… my gift to you. For being so obedient."

"Don't expect a thank you." she rolled her eyes.

Kaila could have kept fighting, she was sure of it, but admittedly she felt some small appreciation. It would have been inconvenient otherwise, and she'd rather not tend another wound right now.

She seemed to perk up a bit as they entered the forge. Still tired and fractionally slower, but her posture straightened under those claws, eyes scanning the room with a sense of wonder. They drank in the detail of every lattice and flash of plasma between pylons, even as they stepped upon the dais.

Her lips curled in satisfaction.

"So choose, Kaila. Will we give new life to something old… or will we create something wholly yours?"

"Both." she answered proudly.

Then, wearing a smile that was one half wondrous, half wicked, she finally turned to regard Virelia.

"I once collected tomes about an old Sith lord of the Plague Era."

"Battle after battle, Darth Thesseus lost a part of himself and was forced adopt cybernetics to survive. After so many wars, he was more metal than man, and that tragedy ended with a question; 'Am I the man I once was, or something different?'."

Kaila stepped forward, tracing gloved fingers over the alien controls as she thought back on the old legend. She rubbed the ancient dust between her fingers, the archeologist watching flakes fall almost reverently.

"Many argue he was something different, something better, more powerful."

"That is why I am collecting only the finest parts from the slain."

She then turned around, arms spreading wide.

"I am not creating a lightsaber. I am building The lightsaber."

"One. piece. at a time."

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Jungle Trip."

Tags - Darth Anathemous



Virelia's helm tilted, the slow prowl of her steps carrying her around Kaila like she was circling a prize already won. The Forge's green light flickered over her armor, over the lines of her gauntlets as she reached for the controls. Her claws brushed over the alien interface with a languid ease, awakening deep mechanisms in the dais. The air grew hotter, the plasma arcs flaring as if reacting to her mood.

"Oh, Kaila…" she purred, low and slow, as if savoring the shape of her name. "You could be talking about anything right now—some tragic cybernetic relic, the glory of collecting pieces one by one—and all I can hear is how much you love the way I'm putting my hands all over your work."

A low chuckle followed, dark and indulgent, before her claws slid across the controls, locking in the forging parameters. The dais began to shift, mechanical arms unfolding in preparation to shape metal under impossible heat.

"I'm going to make sure it's built exactly how I want it." She stepped closer until her voice was right against Kaila's ear, her tone filthy with amusement and possession. "You know I don't give a damn about the weapon, don't you? It's just a bonus to be able to work on something so profound. What I want is watching you stand there, flushed under the Forge's fire, knowing you're mine while you pretend you're just here for the blade."

Her hand found Kaila's hip, fingers flexing just enough to make the armor whisper. "You look so good like this—trying to keep that proud little posture, knowing full well you'd let me take you apart in more ways than any weapon could. I could break you into pieces and put you back together better every time."

The machine arms began hammering molten alloy into form, their rhythm a hard, relentless counterpoint to her words. "And I'd praise you for every moment of it. Tell you how beautiful you are when you obey. How perfect you feel when you give me what I want without fighting." Her claws traced up her side, over the curve of her waist, deliberately slow.

"I'd call you my finest work," she murmured, molten in tone. "Because it would be true."

The Forge roared, the first finished component snapping into a cooling cradle. Virelia didn't even look at it. Her attention never left Kaila's face, drinking in every flicker of reaction.

"I'll make your weapon," she said at last, voice dripping satisfaction. "But don't ever forget—you're the real prize here, my Empress. And every piece I add to you… every chain I wrap around you… is mine."

She let her claws slide from Kaila's side, only to take her chin between her fingers and tilt her head up. "Now stand there, and give me something fun to view while I work."

 

[Darth Anathemous]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Darth Virelia

"You try too hard, Virelia." she scoffed.

Even while she had her by the chin.

She ripped herself from Virelia's grasp, even if she got scratched for it, it didn't matter. The nerve of this woman, she thought. Maybe she really was here for more than the blade, but that didn't give Virelia any right to dismiss her as some kind of object.

"Do not dismiss this as a mere passion project. This could very well be the blade by which we forge an Empire!"

"If you're not lying through your teeth." she added with no small amount skepticism.

Arms crossed, skin flushed by flame and anger, she leaned back against the console while looking at anything but the spider.

A defeated sigh.

"And for Fanged-God's sake, buy me dinner or something. Some wine at the very least."

"You empress wants to be good and drunk before you speak to her like that." she spoke in a mockingly posh voice.

"I mean, let's say, somehow, you really do sit me on a throne. Before I do it myself."

"You'd better not speak to me like that in front of my "subjects."

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Jungle Trip."

Tags - Darth Anathemous



The only answer Virelia gave at first was silence.

This was the kind of silence that filled the air like a held breath, thick and coiling, laced with a heat that had nothing to do with the Forge's glow. Her claws moved over the alien controls with precise, almost violent intention, each press and sweep a sharp punctuation to the anger she didn't voice.

The machinery responded to her mood. Plasma arcs flared brighter, the hammering arms striking with a speed and force that bordered on savage. The molten alloy shuddered under each blow, sparks spitting out like shrapnel. It was as though every ounce of her focus, every jagged spike of irritation, was being poured directly into the component taking shape.

Not a glance. Not a word.

The metal screamed under the shaping field, compressed and folded until it gleamed with a dangerous perfection. Virelia's body was still—save for the deliberate, pulsing movements of her gauntlets, each one channelling something raw into the Forge's heart. She let the rhythm of it bleed through her, a steady transference of fury into craft.

When at last the hammering ceased, the chamber was filled with the hiss of cooling metal. She lifted the component from its cradle with both hands, turning it in the green light. It was perfect—not just in form, but in the subtle, almost imperceptible resonance that came from being forged with intent.

She stepped toward Kaila, holding the piece with deliberate care. "My apologies." Her voice was low, controlled now, the molten edge cooled but not gone. "I needed that."

Her gaze—those two unmasked, violet eyes—locked on Kaila's with unflinching precision. "I needed to channel something into this. Rage. The kind that doesn't scatter. The kind you hold until it burns you clean. And you—" a pause, almost too long "—you needed to feel it too. Even if it meant making you angry at me."

The component rested between them, its weight more symbolic than physical. "Because that's how you focus, Kaila. That's how you cut through every distraction and pour yourself into the thing in front of you. You do it with teeth bared and blood hot. You've done it in battle. Now I have done it here."

Her expression softened—not out of weakness, but because she chose it. She extended the piece toward her. "I hope you like it."

A small breath escaped her, part laugh, part exhale of tension. "Now…" Her tone shifted, rolling back into that low, licentious purr as if reclaiming ground she'd temporarily ceded. "Do you want to go for drinks, my Empress?"

The possessive lilt in her voice made it clear—this was a title Virelia would give her, claim for her, and in doing so, claim her.

Her head tilted slightly, a predator's curiosity in her gaze. "Wine, dinner… maybe I'll even toast to your throne before you sit on it."

One claw tapped the finished component lightly, as though marking the end of the moment. "But I'll still speak to you exactly how I want—because they are our subjects, and they will learn to live with our rule."

She let that hang between them, the air still humming faintly with the aftershock of the Forge's work.

 

[Darth Anathemous]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Darth Virelia

"I hope you like it."

"I..." she looked down at the force-activated components so gingerly offered.

And for the very first time;

"Thank you."

Sincere, despite everything. This is what she'd really come for, that soft side of her old friend, or the woman who wore her face now. She released a sharp exhale that was simultaneously frustrated, confused, and satisfied.

Even if Virelia followed up with...

"But I'll still speak to you exactly how I want—because they are our subjects, and they will learn to live with our rule."

...That.

Kaila could never be sure if she wanted to kill Serina or kiss her. But part of her liked being called Empress, more than she realized and enough to put up with this. For now.

"Fine..." she relented, carefully cupping the components in gloved hands.

Brushing against Virelia's.

"But only because you apologized."

"And because..."

She walked past her, having a hard time making eye contact now. Instead she stared down at the newest building block in her project, gently tracing a thumb over the brilliant chrome.

"Our rule has certain ring to it."

Two Empresses, she thought. It had always been the plan.

"You do owe me drinks, though. And something nice to eat."

A glance over her shoulder, accompanied by a little smirk.

"Something candle lit, perhaps."

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Jungle Trip."

Tags - Darth Anathemous



Virelia took the component from Kaila's hands—not to keep it, but to admire it one last time before letting her have it. She turned it in her palm, letting the greenish-gold light of the Forge glint off the chrome, then—without breaking eye contact—slipped her helm back over her head. The hiss of the seals re-engaging was a quiet punctuation, followed by the faint glow of six violet eyes reigniting in the mask's sockets.

"Candle-lit," she echoed, voice now carrying the faint, filtered purr that her mask lent every word. "My Empress, when I do dinner… I do dinner. And when I do drinks—" the claws of one gauntlet tapped against the component, just hard enough to make it chime "—I do them until we forget why we ever got up from the table."

She stepped around behind Kaila, circling her with leisurely precision. "As for the venue… I do have a fortress here, you know. Right under the surface. Not just some cold, damp hole in the ground—oh no. Heated floors. Silk sheets. A wine cellar that could make a Hapan cry. And…" Her claws traced lightly along Kaila's hip as she passed, "a dining hall large enough for a coronation, or just you and I getting extremely, extremely drunk."

Virelia came to stand beside her again, helm dipping slightly so that the faint gleam of her mask was almost level with Kaila's shoulder. "I say we stay the night. My treat. You get your candle-lit dinner, I get to keep you somewhere I can… entertain you." She let the pause after that last word hang just long enough for its weight to register before moving on breezily. "You'll find the baths are big enough to drown in—accidentally or not—should you wish. And there's a viewing room with an open ceiling for stargazing. The whole place runs on my connection to the Rakatan grid, so whatever you desire, it appears. I could have a feast from across the galaxy waiting by the time we arrive."

She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. "And if you're still worried about me speaking to you a certain way in front of your 'subjects'…" The claws at her hip tightened just enough to hint at their points. "Well. Tonight, you won't have to share me with anyone. Tonight, I will get to focus and admire only you. I speak to you however I please."

The hand slid away, but her presence didn't diminish; if anything, the mask made it worse—less human, more inevitable. "So. We leave the Forge, go topside, and disappear into my little paradise. You'll have your wine, your candlelight, your feast. And I'll have the satisfaction of watching my Empress finally relax somewhere worthy of her."

Virelia turned toward the Forge's exit without waiting for an answer.

At the door, she glanced over her shoulder, six glowing eyes fixing Kaila in place. "Or are you afraid you might actually enjoy yourself, locked away in my fortress for the night?"

There was no real question in her tone—just the kind of challenge that always seemed to bait Kaila into following, whether she wanted to or not. "Come on, Anathemous. Let me show you what it means to rule a space, even if it's only for one night. You might learn something."

Then, with that slow, deliberate stride that always made her look like she had already won, Virelia began leading the way, her voice dipping into something warmer, almost indulgent. "And if you're very, very obedient... Oh, we are going to have so much fun."

 

[Darth Anathemous]

Wearing: Armor
Tag: Darth Virelia

"Yes, I seem to recall your drinking habits." the thought made her frown.

While certainly a tempting way to spend the evening, it reminded her of... after Susevfi. Finding her like that, her words for Serina were unkind at best, even if she did not remember them. The anger though, how she almost hit her, that she remembered.

They were very different people now, sharing very different times.

Oh and what fine times she offered. Kaila even leaned into her touch, for what little it lingered. Imagining it brought an almost embarrassed smile. How soft the bed was, how fine the wine—and oh, the pools—it was exactly what the aching warrior needed to soften her stiff muscles.

A though Serina shared, it seemed.

"I'll have the satisfaction of watching my Empress finally relax somewhere worthy of her."

She stopped in her tracks, looked up, surprise and a subtle gratitude in the way her lips pursed, brows raised the barest inch. Because she realized it was true. Weeks screaming into the hollow ruins of Exegol, battling Jedi, sifting through security footage, whatever task to wrest her focus and drown out the thoughts she'd buried of late.

Anathemous never relaxed, and someone was finally paying attention.

"Or are you afraid you might actually enjoy yourself, locked away in my fortress for the night?"

"Maybe I am." she nervously admitted.

But somewhere, deep down, she was tired of destroying herself to run from what haunted her, and at long last, she felt... seen.
"A fortress for your empress..." she muttered, realizing she liked the way it sounded when Virelia said that word.

She took a deep breath, glaring at the floor in thought.

Then shuffled after her, having made a decision.

"I think... I would like that very much, Serina."

"Uhm, but we should save the pools for another time. Something tells me you'd rather we enjoy the food."

"Then lounge in our silks?" she smirked.

​