Private Chasing a Rumor on Kesh

[Syreeta Ming]

Roughly twenty years ago, the world of Kesh had endured the brunt of a Bryn'adul invasion. The Keshiri people faced genocide, their numbers reduced to near extinction. Even now, nearly a generation later, the scars of the Bryn scourge remained. Syreeta saw them in the plain and sparse settlements she passed in her travails through the countryside, buildings constructed quickly and efficiently to provide vital shelter rather than for any aesthetic beauty.

She had come to Kesh chasing rumors of a cult. Whether it was the Cult which had once held her spirit in its thrall, she did not know - but there was enough detail in the tales to compel her to investigate. The locals seemed reluctant to talk to her, not wanting to bring down any more trouble or suffering on themselves. But she was determined to find the truth. She kept moving, letting the Force guide her where others would not lead.

It was nearly nightfall when she caught sight of a city ahead. One which wasn't on her map. Interesting. She approached on foot, a petite figure wearing a hooded white gown not dissimilar from the garb of Alderaanian royalty. As she neared the gate, her dark eyes swept over the walls, searching for sentries or turrets. If it wasn't marked on her map, there was always a chance that it was meant to be hidden from outsiders. It remained to be seen if they would prove hostile to a lone traveler...

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

There was nothing, and no one, at all on the battlements.

Strange. It was like the inhabitants of the city expected the stories of this place to keep outsiders away, but there weren't even those. There were rumors and sinking feelings and the periodic odd happenings that couldn't be explained, not that those who knew cared to.

Sometimes a mystery seemed less dangerous if you let it alone. It was a risky gamble, of course, but one that the few beings on Kesh who knew of Naneti Sso Jri Qorit's existence in the Takara Mountains gladly took. Maybe the dreadful city was nothing but a mirage in the large desert out of place tucked between mountainous jungles.

The stony eyes of a grand carved head of some beaked animal watched Syreeta as she drew neared to the ornate front gate. The wooden trellis hung many meters in the air in the entrance arch, allowing her to move into the city's marketplace. It was very much alive along the tramped but dusty path weaving between stalls made of wood and cloth drapes.

Beings of many kinds peddled and perused and bartered just as wide a variety of goods. Many of them didn't look quite like any species that Syreeta, or indeed anyone, had seen before.

They had the taint of Alchemy around them.

But still they smiled and laughed as they went about their business. And no one seemed afraid of them.

Syreeta Ming​

 

[Syreeta Ming]

At first glance, the city seemed almost abandoned. No one guarded the battlements; no turrets tracked her movements. She passed through the gate unhindered, the only sound that of her footsteps on the dusty ground.

But once she was inside the walls, the city came alive. She followed the sounds of voices and soon found herself in the middle of a bustling marketplace. Some were native Keshiri, but many were not. Their species were unfamiliar to her, their forms strange and twisted...

Her skin literally crawled in response to the residual Dark Side energies in the people around her. One of the vendors hawking his wares nearby noticed. He stared at her - it was hard not to - until she met his gaze.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," she replied, trying to seem nonplussed. As if her flesh warping disgustingly was a normal everyday event. "What is this place?"

"Naneti. We don't get many visitors. Do you have some business here?"

Whatever was going on here, she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Now was her chance. "Yes," she said. "I must speak to the leaders of this city. Where can I find them?"

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

The stranger who was stranger than most who unwittingly passed through Naneti was directed to the center of the oasis by a wave in the general direction by the vendor. The market crowd began to part, not at his beckoning, but by coincidence as Keshiri, other near-humans, and other beings moved about their business.

Beyond the bodies, a majority of which were twisted in one way or another, marble tile shone under the beating midday sun. The path it created led to a large pool. Its crystal clear surface reflected the cloudless sky above as well as those wandering near its constructed shore. At the head of the body grew a great tree, its roots reaching over the bank towards the water. Directly to the north was a building rising above the rest, somewhere between a temple and a residential mansion. As Syreeta came upon one of the grand doors, the other eased open.

The interior dark coolness would immediately be welcoming, a sanctuary from the radiating heat of the desert. A protocol droid, almost equally dark in color, stood in the foyer. "Welcome, mistress," it greeted while ushering her inside. Past the threshold when the door echoed shut behind them, it looked like the silhouette of a ghost accented only by the sitting room's burning fire.

The ethereal glow emanating from the fireplace caught onto the red of its buggish eyes. "I presume you are here to see the Darth." The droid didn't give her a chance to confirm not deny. That is why every stranger who had come to Damsy's residence came, after all. "I regret to inform you that the she is currently preoccupied."

Syreeta Ming​

 

[Syreeta Ming]

The vendor wordlessly waved his hand, offering no more guidance. But it at least gave Syreeta a direction to start walking in. The crowd parted in front of her, giving her a wide berth as she headed for the center of town. Her flesh continued to crawl, but it was less reactive thanks to the added distance.

In the middle of the strange city was an even stranger structure; less a city hall than a temple or a palace. Syreeta passed through the doors unhindered, sensing no guards or cameras. But she still felt as if she were being watched.

The only figure she saw in the dimly lit interior was a protocol droid. It greeted her, then led her further into the building, to a sitting room with a crackling fire. Syreeta searched the chamber, but saw no one.

At the mention of the word Darth, she froze. A Sith Lord. Of course. The fact that there was one hiding out on the scarred world of Kesh was unsurprising, but no less revolting.

"When will she be available?" she asked the droid, remaining calm but on her guard. She would need to tread carefully and learn what she could about what exactly was happening in Naneti.

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

"She should be—"

A deep bang resonated into the sitting room from a corridor light dimly by sconces. Their light flickered as if flinching away from the unseen source of the disturbance.

"Oh dear," it said, abandoning its previous train of thought.

Another loud sound raced down the halls, this one a curse in Basic.

"KARK!!"

Footfalls heavy with rage echoed off cobblestone.

The droid focus its attention on Syreeta. "Perhaps you should call another time," it suggested.

But just as the words left its vocabulator, a woman in a bodysuit of dark blue leathers marked with ur-Kittât runes and black cloth, came into the arched threshold. She braced one hand on the stone, which cracked, but didn't crumble. underneath her touch—not her strength but her rage. Its energy was as distinctive as the smell of sulfur. Blood ran in rivulettes over her skin: between her fingers, pooling in the web of her hand.

Her bright blue eyes scanned from her attendant to the woman in white.

Syreeta's condition didn't slip Damsy's notice even though anger at the loss that she had just witnessed in the Menagerie had constricted her consciousness. She breathed slowly, grounding herself in that, a thing that she could see, a thing outside of herself. As he breath studied, the breadth of her focus expanded. The raw anger was still there but slunk to the background.

"Is...your skin crawlin' or am I trippin'?" she asked.

Syreeta Ming​

 

[Syreeta Ming]

A loud noise from elsewhere inside the building interrupted their exchange. While the droid cowered, Syreeta whirled around, ready to face whatever came through the door.

Sure enough, a woman burst into the room. She was dark-skinned and blue-eyed, beautiful and strange. Her outward shape wasn't that of a monster - but Syreeta's flesh seethed in her presence. Everything about her, from the Sith runes emblazoned on her clothing, to the blood on her hands, to the anger she radiated, absolutely screamed Sith.

"You must be the Darth," Syreeta said, eyes narrowing. "I'm not usually one to judge a book by its cover, but everything about this place is a giant red flag."

She widened her stance, preparing to fight - thought she didn't reach for her weapon just yet.

"I will give you one chance to explain yourself." Or confess.

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

Something deep within the Darth somehow had enough patience to not only take the stranger's insult and hatred, but also to then answer her truthfully.

"I was..." began Damsy. She paused shortly, squinting her bright blue eyes slightly. "...'elpin' a Sithspawn give birth."

Her raspy voice was low and unsettlingly calm. What she didn't go on to add about the fate of the child hung heavy in the shadows between them, punctuated by the metallic smell of blood wafting from Damsy's hands.

"Whoever created her messed her up somethin' proper."

Sorrow underlay her anger. Their icy pangs would be difficult to sense in the Force as they were often too quickly sublimated away under the fires of her rage.

She set her jaw one way, then the other, then opened her mouth to ask a question that she didn't expect would be answered.

"Who are you an' whaddya want?"

Syreeta Ming​

 

[Syreeta Ming]

"You're breeding more Sithspawn?" Or trying to. Judging by the woman's tone and body language, the new spawn had presumably not survived birth.

Syreeta was absolutely judging the hell out of this Darth. But she also had the odd sense that she was being... baited. The woman's response told her very little. It wasn't a real answer so much as it was an emotional appeal. Syreeta could certainly feel sympathy for the victims of Sith alchemy. But she also knew that the corruption imposed on their bodies could be cleansed, especially if they were truly good and innocent at heart.

But this was not a place of healing or rehabilitation. The people here were wallowing in their pain. Perhaps the woman standing before her had led them to believe that there was no other option, no hope of a cure. She might be using them for her own sinister ends, or... perhaps she too was a Sithspawn. She wouldn't be the first person to believe in their own lies, enabling others in order to justify her own perpetual victimhood.

"Who are you an' whaddya want?"

"My name is Syreeta Ming," she replied. "I am a servant of the Force.

"I came to Kesh to investigate rumors of a cult. That is how I found this place. A city populated by Sithspawn, reeking of Dark Side corruption, led by a woman who calls herself a Darth." She gestured with a broad sweep of her arm, her description of Naneti speaking for itself. "Being evasive will do you no favors. Tell me who you are and what you're doing to these people."

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

It took everything that was left in Damsy to stay silent and let Syreeta speak. After a few moments filled with the foreboding crackle of the fire followed her demand, Damsy spoke but omitted her name.

"I'm lettin' these people be themselves. A kindness they haven't had their whole lives."

Hearing a Sith Lady speak relatively calmly of kindness was beyond jarring, like gravity's direction had suddenly been switched. Up was down. Down was up.

"Do you know what this city's name is? What it means?" she asked, but then immediately answered her own questions. "Wandering at an end." She pushed herself from the door jam and wiped the blood from her hand on the side of her thigh.

"I ain't breedin' 'em." She looked back to Syreeta. "They doin' that themselves." Gave a small, almost nonchalant shrug. "Lifeforms tend ta fuck, if ya didn't know."

Syreeta Ming​

 

[Syreeta Ming]

"Acceptance of evil is not kindness. It is cruelty of the worst kind."

Syreeta was not fooled. The picture was becoming clearer, despite the Sith refusing to tell her more.

"Have you heard the metaphor of the crab bucket?" she asked. "The ones who try to climb out are grabbed and pulled back down by the crabs beneath them. They would rather all of them stay in the bucket and suffer the same fate, than let even one of them escape." She shook her head. "Just because you could not free yourself from the Dark Side doesn't mean you have the right to keep others in the Dark with you. I certainly won't stand for it."

She needed to leave the city. Her master would want to hear of what was going on here, and perhaps the Jedi Order as well. But if she could, she would defeat this Darth in battle first.

She held her lightsaber hilt with both hands in front of her, activating the crystalline blade. "Surrender or die, Darth."

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy had had no desire to fight.

For one, a life had just been lost in the Menegerie.

For two, she was an ally to the Light even if its servants didn't realize that. As annoying as they could be, including but not limited to as hellbent on her destruction, she wouldn't hurt them.

Then Syeenta drew on her. It wasn't that she did though; it was what weapon she held in front of her with righteous intent. Her own attitude morphed as fast as she did on contact with water, and it wanted to rip out Syreeta's throat. But Damsy was no monster, despite her DNA, despite her status, despite her reputation to some. She would give Syreeta a chance to explain herself.

"Where..." She took a single towards the Lightsider before her. "...in fuck..." Her upper lip drew up to bear humanoid teeth as she hissed out her question, bit by bit. "...did you get..." She continued to stalk forward and broke eye contact with her once, briefly, to glance at the claymore saber hilt she herself knew well. "...that?"

Syreeta Ming​

 

[Syreeta Ming]

The Darth reacted unexpectedly to the sight of the lightsaber. It was clear that she recognized the weapon, though she didn't say how.

"My master gave it to me," Syreeta replied, her brow furrowing. What significance did the borrowed lightsaber hold? "It belonged to a friend of his. A friend who sacrificed himself to heal his planet—"

The Darth began to advance toward her. Syreeta didn't let her get close, simultaneously stepping backwards to put more distance between them—and swinging her blade in an arc that, if unchecked, would cleave the Sith from shoulder to hip.

Damsy Callat​