First Reply Dark Delving

[Darth Virelia]

"Finding secrets has become somewhat of a hobby of mine."

- TAG: OPEN

Ruusan.

An ancient, terrible place.

Even now, as one walked amongst the barren deserts of the planet, the screams of the damned echoed through the Force like distant thunder buried beneath the sand. The world itself remembered. Beneath every ruined valley and beneath every dune scorched black by forgotten war, the dead lingered still. Countless souls, shattered and consumed during the cataclysm that had once broken them all, remained trapped within the wound Ruusan had become.

A graveyard. A scar upon the galaxy.

The storied nature of the planet had long since passed into myth for most of the modern tales. It was here, according to the histories, that the Sith had once been annihilated in ages past. Here that ancient powers, rituals and horrors beyond modern comprehension had been buried beneath ash and time alike. The Force itself felt wrong upon Ruusan, as though reality had never fully healed from what transpired here. Darkness lingered in the soil. In the wind. In the silence between heartbeats.

And yet, so few came seeking it. Perhaps they considered the world too dangerous. Perhaps the proximity to old Jedi interests had discouraged the ambitious. Or perhaps modern Sith had simply grown weak, content to posture within temples and courts while the true remnants of power rotted forgotten beneath their feet.

It mattered little to the Tyrant Queen.

Darth Virelia had spent the last months wandering endlessly between worlds, weaving herself through the arteries of a dying galaxy with patient precision. Every scheme another thread pulled tighter around the throat of the age to come. The galaxy had changed in her absence. But in so many ways, it remained exactly the same. Still divided. Still fearful. Still desperately awaiting something strong enough to seize it by the throat and force meaning upon its chaos.

There was much to do.

Oh, there was so very much to do.

A sultry smile slowly formed beneath the six-eyed mask of the Tyrant's Embrace as violet lenses swept across the desolation before her. The ancient battlefield stretched endlessly beneath the dying light, broken rock and crimson sand illuminated beneath the cold glare of Ruusan's sky. Around her, excavation droids moved carefully amongst half-buried ruins protruding from the wasteland like the ribs of some colossal corpse.

But Virelia scarcely noticed them.

Deep beneath the dead world, something waited. She could feel it, a distant pulse against the edge of perception. The sensation coiled through her like silk dragged across exposed nerves, awakening that eternal hunger buried within her soul—the gnawing need for forbidden knowledge, for power untouched by lesser hands, for secrets the galaxy had long since deemed too terrible to remember.

 

[Delvin jeth]

Tag: Darth Virelia

Delvin had come to the planet aswell in dark clothing as his white hair blew in the wind. The promise of ancient knowledge and mysteries where impossible for the arkanian to ignore and resist. As he walked finding a familiar face as he walked up "a face i haven't seen in some time" he said as his droids joined in the excavation standing next to her. "Tell me darth virelia what brings you to this planet" delvin asked standing there looking at her he hadn't seen her since the dark court and that had been some time as he felt the endless battles.

And death from the Planet itself the souls screaming for release paying them no mind as he stood there as he had a drive for what secrets lay long buried. Under their very feet on this endless battlefield ruusan.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Finding secrets has become somewhat of a hobby of mine."

- TAG: Delvin jeth

Those who had once answered her call upon Malachor were, by their very nature, of value to the Tyrant Queen.

From the highest Dark Jedi to the lowliest mercenary willing to drown the galaxy in blood for purpose and coin alike, Virelia had always taken a certain pride in what the Dark Court represented. It had never merely been an army. It was proof. Proof that others had looked upon her vision and seen something worthy of following. Worthy of bleeding for. Worthy of dying for.

Even now, after the endless wars, betrayals and collapses that plagued the Sith, some remnants of that old loyalty still endured. That alone made this meeting worthwhile.

The six violet lenses of her mask settled fully upon the approaching Arkanian. Though she had never personally spoken to him before, she recognised the type immediately. The posture. The alertness. The subtle readiness in the positioning of his dominant hand near his saber. This was a survivor.

A battle-hardened creature sharpened by conflict and necessity alike.

As he approached, the Tyrant Queen gave a slight inclination of her head, black robes and obsidian armour stirring faintly beneath the cold winds of Ruusan. Around them, excavation droids continued their work in eerie silence, ancient stone being dragged screaming from beneath the sands while the Force itself seemed to whisper through the wasteland.

Her voice emerged smooth and noble, laced with that ever-present sultry undertone reserved for those she regarded with genuine respect.

"It displeases me greatly that I cannot recall your name, old comrade. Much time has passed since Malachor, and war has a habit of devouring memory alongside flesh."

A faint chuckle escaped her.

"But I will never fail to take pride in seeing one who once bore my colours still standing."

Her gaze travelled across him with unsettling precision, six eyes studying every detail of his form. The scars. The stance. The measured control beneath the surface. Virelia observed people the same way others examined weapons—searching for strengths, flaws and hidden edges alike.

Satisfied, she continued.

"You carry yourself like a true Sith. Not the hollow breed infesting modern empires, draped in titles and tradition while hiding behind fleets and ceremony. No... Ruusan belonged to a different kind of Sith."

Her eyes slowly drifted toward the wasteland surrounding them.

"The kind willing to meet the Jedi blade-to-blade beneath open skies. The kind who embraced annihilation itself for the sake of victory. Here, our predecessors did not simply lurk in shadows whispering philosophy to one another. They waged war upon the Force itself."

The wind howled softly across the dunes as though the planet remembered.

"As terrible as this place is... there is purity in it."

Her attention lowered briefly toward the blackened sands beneath their feet.

"So much death. So much hatred. Entire legions reduced to echoes screaming endlessly into eternity. And yet modern Sith fear places such as this. They avoid them. They call them cursed."

A quiet, almost mocking amusement slipped into her tone.

"Good."

One clawed gauntlet slowly extended outward toward the wasteland.

"Let lesser beings fear the dark. Let them bury knowledge beneath superstition and reverence. That is why they stagnate. Why they grow weak. The Sith were never meant to inherit power comfortably."

Her hand slowly curled shut into a fist.

"We seize it. Bleed for it. Unearth it from worlds the galaxy itself wishes forgotten."

For a moment, silence lingered between them save for the distant machinery and the whispering dead, then she turned fully back toward him.

"I came here for the same reason we descend into the tombs of Korriban. The same reason we sacrifice flesh, sanity and soul to the Dark Side itself."

The violet glow of her mask intensified faintly.

"To preserve what our forefathers attained. To reclaim what history attempted to bury. And to ensure that the next generation of Sith inherit something greater than the rotting corpse of modern doctrine."

A slow smile curved beneath the six-eyed mask.

"And of course... to use that power as I see fit."

The Tyrant Queen stepped closer, robes dragging softly across the ash-laden ground.

"What about you, old friend?"

Her voice lowered slightly, becoming almost intimate against the screams buried within the Force around them.

"What is it you seek amongst the cries of the damned and the glorious last stands of the past?"

 

[Delvin jeth]

Darth Virelia

Delvin stood there "no hurt feelings virelia my name is delvin jeth" the arkanian said standing there. As he stared at the ground they stood on as he listened to her speak as he stood there as the droids and workers excavated the area "superstition is overrated and unnecessary in the pursuit of knowledge" delvin said.

His brain analyzes the work the workers have done so far as the history of ruusan played in his mind as he stood there. Beside her as his analytical mind examined her words under cold eyes proccesing all three things individually in his mind. "Those who are truly ambitious find ways to gain power without sacrificing such things for said power" he offered standing there.

"I seek knowledge for knowledge sake virelia" as he stood there in his usual unemotional calculating stance unreadable to outside observers "although part of me wonders if they discovered the secrets of how to bestow the force upon others or increase the force sensitivity of those who can wield it naturally" he said standing there knowing the odds are low.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Finding secrets has become somewhat of a hobby of mine."

- TAG: Delvin jeth

Already, there were certain traits Virelia had begun to note within this Delvin Jeth.

A materialist by nature. Clinical. Rational. A man seemingly uninterested in mysticism for its own sake, who viewed superstition as little more than wasteful ornamentation draped across the pursuit of power and knowledge alike. More interesting still was his belief regarding sacrifice—that truly ambitious Sith would find ways to ascend without surrendering pieces of themselves in the process.

An idealist, then, or perhaps merely someone who had not yet discovered what the Dark eventually demanded from all who reached deeply enough into it. It would be fascinating to see where such conclusions ultimately led him.

The Tyrant Queen did not challenge his words. There was no need. Wisdom was not something the Dark Side gifted freely, nor was it something another could simply hand over through conversation. Some truths had to be bled for personally. Others had to be survived.

And besides, why rob him of the satisfaction?

Half the journey every Sith undertook through the Darkness was the shedding of old skin. The slow destruction of weakness, naivety and limitation alike. One earned their title through suffering, through obsession, through the endless process of confronting reality and forcing it to yield.

Eventually, the Dark taught everyone. One way or another.

The statement that lingered most heavily in her thoughts, however, was far simpler. Knowledge for knowledge's sake.

An unusual answer.

Certainly, a hunger for knowledge was essential for any Sith worth the title, but pure intellectual pursuit was rare amongst their kind. Most sought knowledge as a weapon, a ladder, or a means to domination. Archivists and preservers of lore had existed throughout Sith history, of course, and they were utterly fundamental to the survival of Sith culture across the ages, but Delvin did not strike her as a mere curator of old truths.

No, there was purpose buried beneath those words. There always was, he simply had not revealed it yet.

More intriguing still was the specific knowledge he sought. The notion caused a faint smile to touch the lips hidden beneath Virelia's mask.

Coincidence was such an amusing thing.

For years, Virelia herself had pursued similar lines of thought. The creation of Force-sensitive life was not especially difficult for one willing to descend into the darker branches of alchemy and genetic manipulation. That path had been explored many times before by Sith far less disciplined than herself.

The true challenge lay elsewhere. Existing subjects.

Functional biological templates already shaped by experience, skill and loyalty—assets worth preserving rather than replacing. Attempting to forcibly elevate Force sensitivity within already-developed organisms almost always resulted in catastrophic instability. Most subjects simply broke beneath the strain.

Ruusan, however, carried rumours. Ancient rumours.

Deep beneath the planet's scarred crust, it was said the Sith of the old wars had once conducted horrific rituals upon the local population during the final years of their conflict against the Jedi. Entire settlements allegedly seized and reshaped through Dark Side rites. Ordinary men and women dragged screaming into ceremonies that awakened dormant sensitivity within them, forcibly transforming them into crude but potent Sith thralls to replenish dying armies before the final confrontation.

If such accounts were even partially true...

Then the implications were extraordinary.

Virelia slowly turned her gaze back toward Delvin, the violet glow of her six lenses reflecting faintly against the storm-dark sands around them.

"Remarkably," she began smoothly, "I came here pursuing something very similar."

Around them, excavation droids continued tearing through layers of ancient stone while the wind carried faint whispers across the battlefield. It almost sounded as though the dead themselves were listening.

"My droids and I have spent the last several days using deep-ground telemetry, residual Force disturbances and fragmented records recovered from old Brotherhood archives to triangulate the location of a structure buried somewhere beneath this wasteland."

She began pacing slowly across the blackened ground, boots crunching softly against ash and shattered glass left from wars long past.

"There are rumours of an ancient ritual site hidden below Ruusan's surface. A place where the Sith attempted precisely what you describe. The forced elevation of Force sensitivity within otherwise ordinary beings."

Her voice lowered slightly.

"Not through careful refinement... but through mass conscription and desperation."

A faint amusement crept into her tone.

"The Brotherhood was losing its war by then. Desperate men commit desperate acts."

She paused briefly, kneeling just enough to allow gloved fingers to drag slowly through the dark sand beneath her. Even now, the Force screamed here.

Hatred. Fear. Agony. Desperation. Wonderful things.

"It is highly unlikely such methods were stable," she continued, rising once more. "But stability is a problem solved."

Her eyes settled upon Delvin again.

"And if the ritual site still exists, then so too may the knowledge required to perfect what they failed to control."

For the first time since their meeting, genuine interest sharpened visibly within the Tyrant Queen's posture.

"Of course," she added softly, "I have little doubt the souls bound to this world guard such secrets jealously. Ruusan is not merely haunted, Delvin. It is wounded. Places like this develop instincts of their own over time."

A faint chuckle escaped her.

"But I suspect neither of us frightens particularly easily."

The winds howled violently across the wasteland for a brief moment, swirling ash around the two Sith as excavation lights flickered against the darkness.

Then Virelia offered him a small, knowing nod.

"I believe our meeting here was exceptionally fortunate."

 

[Delvin jeth]

Darth Virelia

Delvin stood there as his own men and droids worked away helping virelias excavation droids as he thought about it as they stood in measured silence sizing eachother up on an intellectual level not as foes or maybe as foes aa all sith do. Even if delvin didn't count himself among their number he rubbed elbows with them worked along side them. Those in the galaxy already saw him as a sith or atleast sith aligned.

"Those rituals where born of desperation more than likely they can be refined mastered" delvin offered standing there as he felt the rage, hatred, despair of the planet as he stood there "ghosts can be wielded and tamed" he said standing there as he looked at the landscape.