First Reply Dathomir, Dathofar, Dathowhereveryouare

[Xuko Pagoi]

Spoiler: OOC note, please read

Hello there! I'm dipping my toes back into writing here, and I'm looking for a collaborative thread to start with. Our characters don't have to like each other, but I'd very much prefer they be working together in this context than against each other. I also enjoy a good multi-page thread, so please consider before you commit. Thank you!

Xuko decided that it was easier to list the things he did know than the things he didn't.

He knew what his name was, he knew that the small metal cylinder clipped to his belt glowed blue when he activated it and functioned as a very lethal weapon, and he had a word- or, more accurately, another name- that floated frustratingly at the edge of his where his memories should be. Klar.

Other than that, his life could better be described as a giant game of fill-in-the-blank. He was on the planet ________. He was supposed to be _________. He felt like __________.

He'd woken up inside a cave with no clue where he was, no clue how he'd gotten there, and no memories of his life before this barren, hazy red planet. He'd been greeted by a creepy woman who had not been at all interested in answering his inquiries. She was as pale as parchment, with spindly fingers and facial tattoos that accented her severe features. A greenish haze blurred the edges of her robes, and swirled hauntingly around her feet. The Green Gas Lady (mist, she'd told him) had promised that answers to some of his questions inside the crumbling temple that now loomed ahead of him, without providing specifics. In response, Xuko had swung his weapon at her.

He had mist.

Or, more accurately, the woman had dissolved into mist before reappearing partway across the cavern, cackling at his temper, while he stared at the rock he'd just cleaved in two. "Is that how you thank your patron?" she'd asked him, before vanishing again- for good this time. Sometimes Xuko thought he caught a glimpse of a trailing shadow, or sensed a presence just outside of his peripheral, but each time it proved to be nothing.

There was something to be said for keeping alert on ___________, though. Xuko had quickly learned that the local population was not at all accepting of outsiders. At first he'd been pleased to see another humanoid of his same species, but he'd scarcely made contact before they'd said something about him being "Iridonian filth" and had attacked. Xuko wasn't certain what to make of that, but at least assuming that everything here wanted to kill him made decision-making easier.

The downside was that Xuko was beginning to suspect that it was more than just the other humanoids who wanted him dead- it was as if the planet itself was slowly killing him. Even accounting for the very real problem of a lack of food or drinkable water, or the territorial creatures he'd thus far managed to avoid, Xuko didn't know how else to describe the way in which the planet weighed on him; preying on his doubts, his anger, and the void left by his missing memories.

Xuko set his jaw as he studied the terrain in front of him, planning his approach. The temple was still a few hundred meters away, and the land leading to it was scarred with crevices and rubble. He could make out no observation posts near the structure, but that didn't mean that there weren't unfriendly eyes watching. Going overland was faster, but he'd spotted at least one group of zombie-like figures shuffling in the shadows ahead. Dropping down into the subterranean levels brought a whole new element of risk, since navigating would be much more difficult, but Xuko was certain that the true test awaited him inside the temple...

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto had spent what little free time he allowed himself chasing rumors of a red world one that bled with the same alignment as Korriban, yet was not Korriban itself. The ancient Sith homeworld was far too dangerous to approach now, its skies thick with sith order patrols and old ghosts that refused to die. But this other world… this one was different. Its energy signature resonated oddly in the Force, a crimson pulse that felt ancient, wounded, and alive.

He told himself this was reconnaissance a chance to log anomalies and confirm whether the reports matched archived planetary data but that was only part of the truth. The deeper reason was far more personal.

Decades ago, an old acquaintance of his, a Dathomiri witch named Tilly, had vanished without a trace. She had been one of his first encounters in this galaxy since being frozen all those years ago. and one of the few Laphisto truly respected: fierce, unpredictable, but unshakably loyal to those she called kin. When she disappeared, he had wanted to search for her, but the timing couldn't have been worse.

The Lilaste Order was still being forged, its foundation fragile and constantly tested. Every moment of his life had been consumed by logistics, diplomacy, and war. There had been no time for personal quests. And so the years slipped away until only her name and the echo of her laughter remained.Now, though, he had a reason to return. Or rather, an excuse.

His newest apprentice, Aknoby , had spoken of a red world when they first met a place from the edge of his memory, hazy yet persistent, like a dream he couldn't shake. The boy's recollection was fractured, his past veiled in confusion, but the way he described it had stuck with Laphisto: the burning sky, the dead soil, the whisper of something watching. Dathomir fit too many of those details to ignore.

If this was the world he remembered, then perhaps its landscape would stir something in him unlock a fragment of memory that could explain who he truly was and where his story began. And if not… then at least Laphisto could tell himself he'd finally gone looking for Tilly.

As the Conquests agenda dropped from hyperspace, the red planet filled the viewport storm-wracked, violent, and beautiful in its desolation. The Force trembled around it, thick with old magicks and memories that refused to fade. Laphisto exhaled slowly, his claws resting on the console as he studied the swirling atmosphere below. "Dathomir," he murmured to himself, the word heavy with meaning. "Let's see what secrets you've been keeping."

As the Conquest's Agenda broke through Dathomir's upper atmosphere, the crimson world stretched beneath it like a living wound vast, scarred, and whispering with forgotten power. The corvettes repulsors flared as it touched down upon a plateau of cracked red stone, the air thick with the scent of dust and decay.

The boarding ramp hissed open, and Laphisto descended into the storm. Each step landed with weight and purpose, his taloned feet grinding against the rock, leaving shallow impressions that filled almost instantly with drifting red sand. The wind howled across the plateau, carrying with it the faint echoes of chanting or perhaps it was only the groan of the planet itself.

He paused at the edge, his gaze sweeping over the landscape. Below him, the ground dropped away into a scarred valley where a structure loomed from the dust a temple, half-consumed by the planet yet stubbornly defiant in its ruin. Its spires jutted skyward like broken bones, black stone glistening with a faint oily sheen. The air around it shimmered with dark energy, the kind that carried weight even on the breath.

Perhaps, he thought, he could find something of value within. A dark side relic, a fragment of old magick something that could be safely contained and studied by the scholars and adepts of the Aurora Station academy. The students there had learned much of light and balance; a controlled lesson in shadow could serve as a necessary contrast.

But that wasn't all that drew him. There was someone down there. He could feel it a presence fractured and raw, thrumming faintly within the Force like a wounded animal's heartbeat. Pain. Confusion. Isolation. It was a signature that resonated too strongly to ignore. Laphisto exhaled through his nostrils, the sound low and deliberate. Perhaps Diarch Rellik had been right after all he was drawn to the broken, the outcast, and the lost. They mirrored too much of what he once was: a soul torn and abandoned to time.

Checking his gear one final time, Laphisto ran a claw along the magnetic seal of his weapon holster, feeling the reassuring click as it locked into place. The air was thick with heat and dust, the wind tugging at the edges of his armor as he stepped toward the cliff's edge. Below him, the red valley yawned wide jagged stone, winding ravines, and the unmistakable silhouette of the temple carved into the heart of the rock. Its dark entrance pulsed faintly with power, like a wound that refused to close.

He crouched low, talons scraping against the stone, and spread his wings. The motion was deliberate and powerful the membranes catching the dying light. A moment of silence. Then he jumped. The drop tore the sound from his throat. Wind roared past his ears as he plunged through the crimson haze, the world blurring into streaks of red and black. His wings snapped open with a deep, booming crack, catching the air and jerking his body violently upward. The strain vibrated through his shoulders, but he held the glide steady, leveling out into a smooth descent.

Below, the temple grew larger with every beat of his wings each downward sweep pushing him faster through the dust-choked air. The glow of his thrusters lit the canyon walls in flashes of teal and gold, cutting through the mist as he angled toward the structure. He banked once, catching an updraft, and landed in a crouch at the edge of the temple's main terrace. Stone fractured beneath his talons as he straightened, wings folding neatly against his back. The air here was heavy saturated with the scent of decay and the hum of buried power.

Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko stifled a cough into his sleeve, and it came away flecked with crimson. Yep, this planet was definitely trying to kill him. Given a few hours, the Zabrak reckoned that he'd have been able to enter the temple unspotted, but clearly time was not on his side.

At least he didn't need to worry about losing daylight- as far as he could tell, the planet was perpetually lit by a reddish glow- but he ruled out taking the cautious approach and exploring the subterranean pathways towards the temple. Xuko took a deep breath to center himself, then cursed himself as this brought on another bout of coughing.

Ignoring the tangy taste of iron in his mouth, Xuko prepared to step out from underneath the overhang he'd stopped under when his ears pricked in response to a new sound. The first sound Xuko heard was unmistakably the flap of wings, but it wasn't until the new arrival swooped into view that Xuko understood what the strange whooooshing sound was; thrusters.

Xuko immediately assumed it was hostile, frowning as it perched on the edge of the temple's main terrace. Now it would be nearly impossible to enter the temple without a fight, given the commanding view its vantage point offered. The only silver lining was that the being's arrival had gathered the attention of a number of guards in and around the entrance to the temple; perhaps half a dozen of the Zabraks that had attacked Xuko earlier. It was too far away for Xuko to make out specifics, but if they were armed like the previous group Xuko expected them to have an array of spears and energy bows; crude weapons compared to the one he held, but effective nonetheless. They were converging below the winged creature's perch, further reinforcing Xuko's hypothesis that it was some sort of authority figure.

At least Xuko could use the distraction offered by the appearance of the powerful figure to cover some ground in the direction of the temple. Although he still took care to move as silently as possible, his senses on alert for a picket or sentry left behind, the Zabrak ghosted from shadow to shadow as best he could.

Xuko had just slipped into the shadow of a pile of rubble barely taller than he was when the sound of an energy bow's report split the air. The Zabrak immediately dropped into a crouch, his hand dropping to his weapon while he searched for the unseen sniper...

...only to realize that the shots he heard weren't being fired at him; rather, they were aimed up at Laphisto .

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto had expected resistance the Zabraks of this world were anything but welcoming to outsiders, and even less so to one descending from the sky on wings of fire. Their hostility pressed against the air like static, thick with fear and aggression. He'd barely taken a few steps toward the temple when the first volley came a chorus of thwip-cracks as energy bows released their charge.

With a sharp breath, he raised his hand, the Force flowing through him like muscle memory. Tutaminus. The defensive technique came instinctively now, the air around his palm rippling as he caught the first bolts mid-flight. They splashed harmlessly against his open hand before scattering into harmless motes of light. He shifted his stance, batting away another volley with a casual precision that belied the danger of the attack.

It reminded him of Wrathian Kell , and their joint mission to the prison planet of Harridan months earlier how Kell had first demonstrated the technique, catching blaster fire barehanded in the middle of the attack. Laphisto had learned it on the spot, adapting it in his own way. Now it was as natural to him as breathing, and far more satisfying.

But satisfaction was short-lived. The next barrage came heavier, thicker a rain of crimson energy streaking from the temple's lower terraces and cliffside ledges. Even his practiced rhythm couldn't deflect them all. One shot slipped past his guard and slammed into the LO-Va'karis shield enveloping his Armor . The barrier flared a brilliant blue, the impact spider webbing across its surface before dispersing the heat outward with a low hum.

He grunted, more in irritation than pain, and adjusted his footing as another bolt hissed past his head. The flickering glow of his shield painted his armor in pulsing azure light, each impact marking his position for the archers . So, they wanted a fight. Fine.His wings flexed slightly, scattering dust in a short burst of pressure as he extended a hand toward the shooters. The air grew heavy charged as he began to channel the Force more deliberately. he didnt want to spend this time killing these men. he needed to end things fast so he could get on with his mission here

Reaching down to his thigh holster, he drew his LO-22S sidearm in one smooth motion. The weapon came alive in his hand heavy, balanced, reassuring. But unlike the elegant hum of standard blasters, this one offered no whine, no glow. It was all kinetic brutality. He leveled the barrel toward the advancing Zabraks, his stance widening as his finger found the trigger. Then came the first bark.

The gun thundered, sharp and concussive a sound that cracked across the valley like thunder rolling over stone. There was no flash, no crimson bolt, only the blur of solid metal tearing through the air. A .50AE slug hit the nearest warrior center mass, punching clean through armor and flesh before embedding itself into the rock behind him. The Zabrak dropped before he had time to scream.

Laphisto adjusted his aim, pivoting with calm precision. The LO-22S roared again and again, the recoil kicking up red dust as each shot found its mark. The rhythm was mechanical breath, squeeze, shift, fire until the twelfth round left the chamber. When the weapon clicked dry, the silence between shots was deafening.

"Always too quick," he muttered under his breath, ejecting the spent magazine. He holstered the pistol without ceremony, exhaling through his nostrils as the Force coiled around him.

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled at the battlefield. Shards of broken masonry and chunks of red stone rose around him in a wide circle before whipping outward like a hailstorm of jagged debris. Screams echoed as the barrage tore through the second wave of attackers. Those who survived stumbled forward in defiance brave, but foolish.

Laphisto's left hand clenched. The ground responded. Spikes of rock erupted from beneath the charging Zabraks, impaling two of them mid-stride, the motion so sudden it left streaks of blood suspended in the air before gravity reclaimed them. The rest pressed on, desperate or too enraged to stop. The first of them reached striking distance spear raised, face twisted in fury. Laphisto's right hand moved in a blur. The Broad Saber slid free with a metallic whisper, and the air ignited with a snap-hiss. The teal-blue blade flared to life, bathing the temple's stone terrace in cold light.

He met the attack head-on. One stroke clean, efficient and the Zabrak's weapon split in two. The second stroke carved through armor and flesh, the energy blade crackling as it met resistance before passing clean through. The body crumpled at his feet, smoke rising from the cauterized wound. Laphisto exhaled slowly, the hum of his saber cutting through the distant screams and thunder. Around him, the remaining guards hesitated torn between fear and fury. "Stand down," he growled through his helmet's vocoder, his tone more command than plea. The Force rippled through the words, carrying weight. "You don't have to die for this temple."

In short, he hoped the brutal display of precision and power would be enough to scatter what remained of the locals. Smoke still curled from the scorched stone, the scent of ozone and burnt iron thick in the air. The surviving Zabraks hesitated near the temple's edge, their weapons shaking, their courage breaking beneath the quiet weight of what they'd just seen. Laphisto didn't chase them intimidation would serve him better than another fight. Fear was often more effective than the blade. " now go home. back to your familys"

As he advanced, the air seemed to grow heavier. The Force drifted from him like vapor rolling off dry ice faint tendrils of energy that crawled low across the ground. Each step pressed that presence deeper into the earth, the invisible weight of it making the air hum with tension.But unlike most Force sensitives, his presence wasn't purely light or dark. It carried both, intertwined and steady, coiled together under control. To those attuned, it would feel strange unsettling even not the warmth of a Jedi nor the cold of a Sith, but something balanced between them.

Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko was immediately grateful that he hadn't gotten further in his plan to use the winged beings' appearance as a distraction with which to enter the temple unobserved. One, there was little which easily distinguished him from the other horned humanoids currently being slaughtered. His attire, silhouette, and proximity to the temple entrance would've made it nearly impossible in the thick of the fight to notice that he was not quite the same as the other Zabraks.

Second was the unquestionable display of might that the new arrival wielded. Even from a hundred meters away Xuko could feel the waves of power rolling off of him, like a storm. First was the surgical precision with which it took out a dozen attackers. Then, the very ground was shattered, raised, and weaponized with nothing more than a gesture.

Even accounting for his missing memories, Xuko realized that while the cold grip of fear running up and down his spine was not a common sensation for him it was absolutely the correct response. He and the winged creature were on completely different levels. Then a teal-blue light flared to life, and stayed lit. Xuko inhaled sharply- before coughing again as quietly as he could- as he realized that whoever this creature was that they carried similar weapons. That was where the similarities ended, though.

A more experienced Force-user than Xuko might've been able to read the nuances in Laphisto's Force signature, but Xuko ended up experiencing much the same thought process as the surviving Nightbrothers did; thanking his lucky stars that he was still alive, and seriously questioning what was so important about the temple, anyways?

"You must approach" came the voice of the Green Gas Lady from the air around him; quiet enough that only Xuko could hear but absolutely not what his frayed nerves needed in the moment. Xuko's reflexes took over, and he ignited his blade and struck without thinking.

Again, he mist his "patron", whose cackle faded away into the haze of Dathomir.

Too late, Xuko realized that he'd blown his stealth. If the shimmering blue energy blade didn't give him away, the motion from the falling stone pillar he'd just bisected certainly would.

In that moment, Xuko remembered how to cuss.

"Zhaqexik"


Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto was more than content to walk the rest of the way toward the temple. The Nightbrothers had finally broken and scattered, their retreating shouts fading into the wind. He exhaled through his nose, a low rumble of satisfaction escaping as he powered down his saber, the blade collapsing with a familiar snap-hiss before locking it back onto the mag clamp at his hip.

He reached for his sidearm next. The motion was automatic slide the empty mag out, fresh one in, rack the slide, check the chamber. The solid click-clack echoed off the stone, clean and mechanical. A soldier's rhythm. Once satisfied, he holstered the weapon and straightened up, scanning the terrace. The last few Zabraks had vanished into the mist. Good. He wasn't here to start a war.

Turning back toward the temple, he took in the structure's worn facade old stone, half-collapsed supports, and a faint energy bleeding from the cracks between slabs. He'd seen a hundred temples like it across the galaxy; most held more ghosts than wisdom. Still, something about this one felt deliberate, as if waiting for him.He took a slow step forward and froze.

A sharp snap-hiss cut through the stillness. The unmistakable ignition of a lightsaber.Laphisto's head turned instantly, instincts taking over before thought caught up. His stance shifted, weight balanced, one hand resting lightly near his holster. The sound hadn't come from his own weapon, and none of the locals carried anything that refined.

He waited a heartbeat, listening. A faint hum. The crumble of loose stone. Whoever had lit that blade was close and not trying to stay hidden anymore.His voice came out low, calm, and edged with authority. "That's not something I expected to hear here…" Drawing his sidearm in one smooth motion, Laphisto leveled it toward the source of the ignition the Zabrak and advanced a few paces, arm extended and stance firm. The pistol's matte frame tracked the young man's center mass with practiced precision.

The sudden crash of a falling pillar forced him to move. He dove to the side, landing in a controlled roll that carried him through a cloud of red dust before coming up on one knee. He swung the weapon back toward the target instinctively, eyes scanning through the haze for movement. When the dust began to clear, the shape that emerged wasn't a raider or a Nightbrother it was something else entirely. A young Zabrak, disoriented, coughing, holding a lightsaber that hummed uncertainly in his grasp.

Laphisto's finger eased off the trigger. He let out a short breath, lowering the pistol. His tone was calm and collected "Easy there." He stood fully, , his eyes narrowing behind the visor. Now that he had a proper look at the other's weapon and stance, the realization clicked. He wasn't a raider he was a Jedi. Laphisto gave a low sigh, more weary than surprised. "What's a Jedi doing all the way out here?" he asked, voice steady but edged with curiosity. His gaze drifted briefly from the glowing blade back to the young man's face, studying him confused, cautious, but not hostile.

"Are you alright, lad?" he asked, his voice calm but steady, carrying just enough weight to cut through the ringing silence that followed the fight. He glanced back at the fallen Zabraks before turning his attention to the one still standing near the temple's entrance. "I'm sure they won't be bothering you any further. And I certainly didn't come here to cause you harm you have my word on that."

He took a measured step back, giving the stranger room to breathe, arms folding loosely across his chest. The stance wasn't defensive, but grounded assured, like a man used to calming a tense field rather than escalating it.

Then his eyes shifted. Gold bled into his irises, rimmed with a faint, pulsing red glow. The air seemed to thrum in response, rippling as if reality itself were bracing against an unseen current. Through that subtle transformation, the Force surged outward his sight expanding in an unseen wave that rolled across the area like a storm tide.

It struck the man's aura head-on, crashing against it with the pressure of the ocean against a cliff. In that moment of luminous stillness, he saw everything threads of emotion, the rhythm of the man's fear, and the faint shimmer of his alignment within the Force. It wasn't sight as mortals knew it, but something deeper: a reading of spirit and intent, laid bare beneath the calm, steady glow of his own balanced power.

Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko stared down the nose of the winged creature's weapon, weathering as best he could the alarm bells that went off in his head in response to it being pointed at him. Such was Laphisto's skill that the feeling didn't fully abate even after it had been pointed elsewhere. Xuko, for his part, kept his lightsaber ignited; however, he lowered it slightly so as not to signal hostility.

But if Laphisto was expecting easy answers from Xuko, they were not forthcoming. Even considering that the Zabrak didn't know where 'out here' was, what he was doing here, or even what Laphisto had called him (Jedi?), it wasn't in Xuko's nature to be chatty with strangers.

All the same, Xuko was seriously considering sharing his current predicament- minus Green Gas Lady, of course. The winged man seemed to know a lot more than Xuko did about where they were and who he was, which could be helpful.

But then the man's eyes shifted ever so slightly, in what could've been dismissed as a trick of the light had Xuko not also been attuned to the Force. The feeling of being studied- no, perceived- crashed over the Zabrak, and he tried to steel himself against it instinctively even as he reeled under the unexpected and unwelcome sensation. Up came the lightsaber again, humming blue blade pointed towards Laphisto as Xuko dropped into a ready stance.

"What are you doing to me?" he hissed, his anger spiking as much from the unfamiliar feeling as from his frustration about feeling outmatched. "I will not be toyed with!"

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto winced as the glow faded from his eyes, the lingering sting drawing a quiet grunt from him. He brought one clawed hand up to the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slowly as his vision adjusted. When he blinked a few times, the twin colors in his gaze dulled back to their usual green and blue. He noticed the tension immediately the Zabrak's stance, the raised blade, the raw edge of panic in his tone. Laphisto lifted a hand, palm out, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Hey, hey easy, kid. Easy," he said, his voice steady but low enough to calm rather than command. "I'm blind. I use the Force to see, that's all. Was just getting a look at you, nothing more." Up close, in the faint glow of the temple's entrance, the scars of carbonite poisoning were visible in the whites of his eyesfine, branching lines that shimmered faintly under the dust and shadow. They told the truth of his words more than tone ever could.

He stayed where he was for a long second, measuring the young man's reaction, then slowly reached down to his side. His movements were careful, preciseonly his thumb and forefinger working the clasp of his holster. The soft click of the release echoed lightly before he drew the sidearm and tossed it aside. The weapon hit the red dirt with a dull thud. His other hand went to the saber at his hip. Another slow motion. Another deliberate throw. The weapon landed beside the first, kicking up a puff of dust."There," he said, keeping his stance open and relaxed. "No tricks. No fight. Just two people trying not to make a mess of things."

"I told you, I'm not here to harm you," Laphisto said evenly, his tone firm but never harsh. "I'm just investigating the area… and looking for a friend of mine. Someone who came from this world a long time ago."He kept his voice low, deliberate, meant to settle nerves rather than provoke them. The faint hum of the Zabrak's saber still cut through the quiet air, its blue light washing over Laphisto's armor in soft pulses. Dust drifted lazily between them, catching the glow as if the air itself held its breath.

It was the truth, or at least a piece of it. Laphisto rarely lied, but he'd learned long ago that full honesty was a luxury best spent sparingly. He was here for more than a simple search for answers tied to his apprentice, to old connections, and perhaps to the Force itself. None of that needed to be shared just yet. He gave a small, almost weary exhale, shoulders settling as his wings flexed slightly against his back before folding tight again. "If I wanted a fight," he added, tone dipping into something closer to dry humor, "we wouldn't be talking right now."

Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko decided that he didn't like being called 'kid' by the winged man, but since he didn't know how old he was he chose not to argue. He was mostly sure that Laphisto wasn't doing it to insult him, which for the moment would have to do.

Xuko kept his eyes on Laphisto as the Kiev'arian tossed their weapon aside. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book- usually followed up by a strike while the victim's eyes were inevitably drawn to the discarded weapon as it clatterd across the rocky ground- but no ambush was forthcoming. Instead, Laphisto shared a little about why they were here on this deadly planet.

At the mention of looking for a friend, Xuko frowned; again finding gaps and blanks where his memories should have been; specifically related to whomever Klar was. Conversations were difficult without any experience to draw on, he realized. Slowly, he lowered his weapon, before extinguishing it with a quiet hissss; deciding that it was pointless to argue about who would win in a fight. From a distance, Xuko hadn't been able to tell just how tall the winged man was; but up close, Laphisto towered over him.

Xuko decided that while he didn't want to admit to his current memory problems, he could at least recognize an olive branch when it was offered. "I have been told that the answers I seek are in there" he admitted, pointing to the temple jutting up into the hazy red sky.

"Since you do not want to kill me, perhaps can help each other search. What is your friend's name?"

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

As Xuko Pagoi lowered his weapon, Laphisto eased his stance, straightening to his full height. He'd been crouched just enough to spring clear if the Zabrak lunged but now that the tension was breaking, he let his weight settle evenly. A quiet exhale left him, the low rumble in his chest fading with the moment.

Seeing a bit of mutual ground forming, he gave a small sigh, his lone ear twitching once before he spoke. "Someone I hope is still alive after twenty years," he said at last, voice carrying a trace of wear beneath its steadiness. "A Dathomiri witch by the name of Tilly. Last I saw her, we were heading from Dantooine to the Kalinda system other side of the galaxy. Can't say I know why she never made the trip or what might've happened between point A and point B."

For a moment, he seemed to drift in thought, his gaze turning toward the temple as if the answers might be written somewhere in its carved stone. The air around them carried the faint scent of burned ozone and dust, the aftermath of their short clash still clinging to the red plateau.

Laphisto's attention shifted back to Xuko. He gave a small tilt of his head, then nodded toward the weapons he'd thrown aside. The pistol and saber both sat half-buried in grit, a few meters away. "Do you mind?" he asked, jerking his thumb in their direction. His tone was level not demanding, but asking, a deliberate show of restraint. "Promise I'll keep them pointed anywhere but at you ."

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as he realized that whomever Laphisto was looking for was not the name he remembered. Just as quickly, he scolded himself for the hope: the chances that a random, nearly 8-ft winged man he'd just met would know the significance of one of the two names Xuko remembered was nearly zero.

Silence stretched between them as Laphisto was momentarily lost in thought, and Xuko saw no reason to speak. It was eventually broken by the Kiev'arian asking about their weapons, which Xuko wasn't about to deny. Not only did he guess that the winged man had other weapons at his disposal, if they were going to be working together he wanted Laphisto to be at full capacity.

Xuko's boots crunched on the rocky ground as the Zabrak approached the mouth of the temple. It felt ancient; its stones bearing the stories of hundreds if not thousands of years. It was also dark, so Xuko re-lit his lightsaber as they approached; not as a weapon this time, but as a light source. The action threw shadows dancing across the walls.

Xuko paused at the threshold of the temple, listening for a few moments but not hearing anything. "Do you know what this place is?" he asked the winged man next to him.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

The moment Xuko Pagoi gave a nod, Laphisto extended his hand, the Force pulling both discarded weapons back toward him. The pistol snapped neatly into its holster at his thigh, and his broadsaber came to rest in his grip. A practiced motion followed the ignition switch pressed with a firm click, the blade bursting to life in a steady teal-blue glow. The light rippled across the red stone walls of the temple, mingling with the hum of Xuko's weapon and casting long, shifting shadows.

The golden-crimson glint returned briefly to Laphisto's heterochromatic eyes as he looked over the structure, his Force sight peeling through the dark like a lens focusing in and out of alignment. The air around them felt still old, heavy with the kind of quiet that came from centuries of neglect. "I can't say I know for certain," he said at length, his voice low but steady, the edge of a rumble threading through his words. "My guess? It doesn't belong to either Jedi or Sith. Maybe one of the local Dathomiri covens."

He took a slow step forward, wings flexing slightly as he scanned the entryway. "Can't say for sure, though. This planet wasn't exactly on any galactic map back when I was studying at the Jedi Temple." A faint huff of dry humor escaped him then half a chuckle, half a sigh as the glow of his saber reflected in the dull metal of his armor. "Figures. The galaxy's always got one more ghost hiding in plain sight."

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

There was that word again that sent a tingle racing across Xuko's skin- Jedi. What the word meant or why it resonated with him was just another thing that Xuko did not know. And while it was nice to not be alone in not knowing things- such as the origin of the crumbling temple ahead of them- Xuko had been hoping that Laphisto could provide some insight as to what lay ahead of them.

Instead, it was looking like the two of them would have to find out the hard way- and that meant stepping into the ancient, creepy temple. Xuko stepped cautiously, checking once behind them just in case the other Zabraks had returned. But his visual search of the place returned no creatures- living or otherwise.

The entrance to the temple opened up into a large atrium, with a crumbling stone floor leading to three potential areas to explore. On the center of the wall across the cavern's North side a tall, stone door with strange glowing green runes radiated a palpable energy into the room. There were no handles to be seen, and the door itself was closed; denying sight at whatever secrets lay behind.

For the less intrepid, stairs on either side of the atrium led up to a second level, the two sides joined by a bridge arcing across the room. At the top of each staircase a tunnel was carved into the wall; one leading East and the other West.

Xuko took a few more steps into the atrium, kneeling down to expect a reddish streak on the ancient floor tiles. "Blood" he reported quietly, noting the direction of the streak led towards the Eastern staircase. "And it's fresh."

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

"One of the Nightbrothers I might've wounded, perhaps?" Laphisto murmured, his tone calm but edged with consideration as he glanced toward Xuko. His gaze lingered only a moment before drifting back to the massive stone door dominating the far wall of the atrium. The runes carved into its surface pulsed with a faint green light rhythmic, deliberate, alive. Dust hung in the air like a thin mist, disturbed only by the faint hum of energy radiating from the stone. The sound pressed against the senses, something primal beneath the skin, the same way a storm hums before it breaks.

He took a slow breath and let his eyes trace the etchings, stepping closer until the warmth of the runes brushed against his scales. He didn't know much about Nightsister magick just fragments from old talks with Tilly back on Dantooine. But the runes... those he understood. Diarch Rellik had taught him plenty during their duel, more than most realized. The way the symbols were layered, the structure of the energy flow this door wasn't simply locked. It was waiting. Watching.

His wings twitched faintly, a silent reflex born of tension. Whatever's beyond this door, it's meant to stay there, he thought. And whoever carved these runes made sure of it. He straightened, resting one clawed hand lightly on the hilt of his broadsaber as his gaze followed the glowing lines converging at the door's center. "If this is Nightsister work, it's not the kind of trap we can brute-force our way through."

His gaze drifted from the sealed threshold to the eastern staircase where the blood trailed off, then briefly to the western side before settling into stillness.,He drew in a slow breath, exhaled, and let the world fade.

Color drained away. Shadows deepened until all became black edges of stone, dust, and ruin traced in faint silver outlines. The Force bled through the darkness, painting the world in gradients of energy and emotion. The air shimmered faintly, every surface whispering echoes of what had been.

He sent his perception outward first toward the stairways, then beyond. The eastern passage whispered with motion, faint and uncertain, while the west carried only stillness. Whether what stirred was alive or something else entirely, he couldn't yet tell. His vision held on it a moment longer before retreating, unwilling to draw deeper curiosity from whatever might be watching back. "Defiantly a presence in this temple, though be it the living or the dead i cannon say"

Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko didn't have any guesses as to who or what the other creature inside the temple might be, which was par for the course for how this day was going. He didn't even know the tall, winged creature's name, but he avoided asking in part because it would mean divulging his own name. Sharing it with a stranger, when it represented so much of what little he did know, made him feel far more vulnerable than it normally would've.

The possibility of a puzzle or mental test also made him nervous. Even if it asked simple questions (What is your favorite color? What is your quest? What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen mynock?) Xuko had no chance of answering anything correctly.

HIs mind began to wander away from the what and began pondering the why of his current predicament. The Green Gas Lady most likely wanted him to explore whatever was inside this temple, and had gone to great lengths to ensure that he did so by stealing his memories and pushing him onwards. Whatever the task, it required him alive and willing; otherwise Xuko realized that he wouldn't have woken up to the Green Gas Lady at all.

The more he thought about it, the more Xuko was convinced that the answer lay with him either being an Iridonian or a Jedi... or possibly both.

Once again, Xuko cursed his missing memories. If he had the slightest idea what either term met- and he hadn't been desperate enough to ask Laphisto what either meant- this whole puzzle might be easier.

At least Laphisto's presence could be counted as an advantage, especially now that the two of them had formed a short-term alliance. The towering winged man seemed to have a significant reserve of information and experiences, both things that Xuko currently lacked. Rather than blunder around by himself, Xuko could follow around after Laphisto.

"Left."

Xuko was getting better at the Green Gas Lady's voice coming out of nowhere, and managed to not cut a rock in half this time. He glanced over at Laphisto, but the Kiev'arian didn't appear to have heard the voice. Xuko waited a few seconds for his heartbeats to settle to a more normal rhythm before voicing his choice.

"Let's go up the other way, then" he suggested, pointing to the left passageway.

It was, he conceded, probably a trap. But if his memories were locked away in here somewhere he wouldn't find them by standing in the entranceway.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

With Xuko Pagoi 's suggestion, Laphisto turned toward the younger Zabrak, one brow lifting as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest.
"Probably a good choice," he remarked, voice carrying the dry edge of a seasoned soldier, "considering the blood trail leading toward the right passageway."

He let his gaze linger on the darker path for a moment, following the faint smear of red as it disappeared into shadow. The reasoning felt sound enough blood meant danger, and they weren't here to chase ghosts or fugitives. Yet part of him couldn't help but weigh the possibility that the obvious route was the safer one by design. If he were setting the bait, he'd make sure it looked like the wrong choice. The thought lingered in the back of his mind like an old habit that refused to fade.

The temple didn't make it any easier to dismiss that instinct. Every inch of the place felt off the stillness too heavy, the air too thick with something unseen. The dim light from their blades played against carvings and fractured stone, revealing symbols long since eroded by time. The walls felt closer the longer he looked at them, like the structure itself was waiting for a misstep.

It reminded him of Malachor V of the tomb-like quiet and the cold pull of void stone inlays that had nearly stripped the life from his body. He hadn't lasted long in that place, forced to retreat before the air itself drained his strength and the Force turned to ash in his veins. The memory flickered through his mind like a phantom pain, leaving only that quiet, familiar unease. He waited a few moments, giving the Zabrak a chance to take the lead if he wished. When Xuko didn't move, Laphisto exhaled quietly and took the first step himself. The stone groaned faintly beneath his weight, dust shifting loose and curling through the thin light of their sabers.

Raising his broadsaber, he angled the blade forward to cast a brighter glow ahead of them. The teal light slid across the cracked walls and broken carvings, pushing back the dark in flickering waves as he began the slow climb. A low chuckle rumbled from him, steady and unbothered, echoing softly off the old stone. "Probably best I go first," he said, glancing back over his shoulder. "I've got the armor for it, after all. And besides" his mouth curved into a small, wry grin, "you know us Mandalorians. Always eager for a fight."

The humor was faint, but genuine the kind that came from someone long past needing to prove himself. His tone carried a hint of warmth beneath the gravel, though his gaze never fully relaxed. Even as he spoke, his eyes swept the stairway and walls, instincts quietly parsing for movement or the faint ripple of danger ahead.

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko's reasoning for letting Laphisto go first was nuanced, but calculated. Although they were temporary allies, few things screamed "Danger!" like a 7ft 8in armored warrior with wings and a glowing broadsword. Like the Kiev'arian said, they certainly were suited to taking point... and while Xuko had no idea what a Mandalorian was (most likely the winged species, he guessed), he'd seen what Laphisto was capable of.

Xuko amended that thought. He'd seen part of what Laphisto was capable of. But since that part had made quite an impression, it absolutely made sense to let the winged man take the lead. Anything hostile standing in their way would either flee or die quickly.

And it was for that exact reason that Xuko didn't feel fully comfortable turning his back on Laphisto yet, either. Try as he might, he couldn't turn off the part of his brain that set off alarm bells in the presence of an apex predator like Laphisto. It was simply better for Xuko's mental state to keep the large, intimidating humanoid in his sight at all times.

As they ascended the stairs, the sound of running water registered on their senses. At the top of the stairs, the tunnel on the western side of the atrium opened up into another large room, lit not by any light but by the glowing greenish water in a pool in the center of the room. Within the pool, a font gurgled slowly; its unpredictable rhythm somehow sounding discordant. On the opposite side of the room, another doorway marked the only other feature.

Xuko didn't like that the water reminded him a little too much of the Green Gas Lady's gas. But as his eyes adjusted to the darker lighting, he saw a pair of smooth divots at the base of the pool; worn into the stone floor by centuries of humanoids kneeling at the base of this very pool.

"Drink" came the whispered command, just as Xuko wished for doing anything but that. He sighed.

"We have to drink" Xuko stated, wondering what he'd done to be saddled with Green Gas Lady as his shoulder hag.

"Not him. Just you."

"I! I have to drink" Xuko amended, stepping forward reluctantly.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xuko's memory wipe had been intentional, but not for the reasons he'd guessed. The entity which resided within this particular temple, worshipped as a god by its followers, slumbered; occasionally roused to a semiconscious state by a particularly zealous display of devotion from the Zabraks which guarded its temple. Its rule was absolute- even the strongest of the Dathomirian Zabraks were easily subjugated in part due to their millenia of subservience to the Nightsisters, and the Nightsisters themselves knew better than to approach.

The entity communed telepathically; brushing softly against the minds of whomever wandered past the atrium. Xuko's presence as a Zabrak, combined with a complete lack of memories, read to the entity as a child; perhaps even an infant. Insignificant, well beneath its care to acknowledge. Laphisto, on the other hand, with his lifeline spanning thousands of years and experience richer than that of most planets, fell firmly on the opposite end of the spectrum of fascinating. The Kiev'arian's presence to the entity was akin to a bucket of cold ice water, tossed gleefully upon a slumbering child.

Deep within the recesses of the Dathomirian temple, the entity known as Ashondreus awoke.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto had been scanning the chamber when a strange sound reached him not quite a noise, more a distortion. Static wasn't the right word, but it was close enough. It buzzed faintly at the edge of his hearing, like a half-tuned signal bleeding through the Force. He turned slightly, eyes narrowing just as Xuko's voice broke through the quiet. telling them they had to drink. shooting his head over towards the man he raised a brow as his force sight locked onto the man again

Laphisto's attention sharpened instantly. Around Xuko's presence in the Force, a faint shimmer wavered threads of green mist curling like smoke around his aura before dissipating as quickly as they'd appeared. The disturbance left an aftertaste in the Force, something alive yet coldly indifferent. and then came the correction that only they had to drink

That was enough to make Laphisto move. His hand shot out, firm but not aggressive, catching Xuko's shoulder before the younger man could take another step. The grip carried authority more than threat. His golden eyes tinged faintly crimson at the edges locked onto the Zabrak's. "Are you sure that's wise?" he asked, voice low, the humor from earlier gone. "You've no idea what this is or what it's meant to do. And you're going to trust a whisper in your head? Some little voice telling you to obey without question?"

He wasn't ready to reveal that he knew something was speaking to the Zabrak not yet. If anything, he could use that as a trump card, a way to tell when the man was being manipulated or persuaded by another presence. It was a quiet advantage, and one he didn't intend to waste. What concerned him more was how long this influence had been at work. How long had this man been guided, pulled along, without even realizing it? That kind of control didn't happen suddenly; it was built over time. The thought didn't sit well with him.

His eyes flicked toward the green-lit water again, the glow rippling faintly across the stone. The unease that had settled in his chest only deepened. Maybe his earlier caution had been right maybe the safest path really was the wrong one.

While Laphisto didn't consciously register the presence that brushed against his awareness, the souls bound within him certainly did. Dra'ko reacted first his essence solidifying like tempered steel, watchful and unmoving as he stared back into the unseen void. Saurav'ix, by contrast, flared with violence, his power snapping outward like a chained beast testing its leash. The air around Laphisto seemed to hum with that sudden surge of tension, faint but sharp enough to draw a low growl from deep in his chest.

He pressed back with practiced control, forcing both entities into submission not with anger, but authority. His will folded around theirs, steady and absolute, pulling them once more into the uneasy balance that defined their coexistence. Slowly, the turbulence faded, replaced by that familiar, measured calm. The two gods receded into silence, orbiting quietly around his spirit once again in their strange, tenuous harmony.

Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Luckily for Laphisto the Kiev'arian's sudden movement and contact with Xuko's shoulder did not register on the Zabrak's strained psyche as an aggressive maneuver- if it had, the lit lightsaber in Xuko's opposite hand might've struck at the winged man. However, Xuko managed to fight down the jolt of panic that had surged through him, betraying only a minimal outward startle.

Xuko shrugged himself free of Laphisto's grasp; the Kiev'arian intimidated him, true, but the Zabrak hated the sensation of a stranger's hand on his shoulder. He glared daggers at Laphisto before his gaze softened somewhat as Xuko realized that the winged man had a point. Where Xuko might've normally forged on ahead, he recognized at least had to defend his decision if he wanted to avoid having his shoulder grabbed again.

"I will not have been the first to do so" Xuko explained, gesturing towards the two divots in the stone floor adjacent to the pool. "And I am not obeying without question." He had lots of questions, most of which he didn't want to admit to Laphisto. "My guess is that this is some kind of preparation chamber" he continued, although he didn't voice the obvious next question; preparation for what?

Xuko had his own reservations- mainly stubborn ones, since he also hated being told what to do by mysterious voices from Green Gas Ladies- but this was his only lead to regaining his memories, and he wasn't about to let his fears rule him any more than they currently were. Ignoring the low growl from Laphisto, he edged away from the winged man, maintaining a eye contact and a guarded stance until he was confident that he was outside of shoulder-grabbing range. Then, he knelt near the pool, cupped his hands, and scooped some green, glowing water into his mouth.

Immediately, Xuko regretted his decision. The water was simultaneously ice cold and burning hot, freezing its way down his esophagus before igniting in his stomach as the world swirled around him. Even accounting for his missing memories, Xuko was confident that it was the worst thing he'd ever ingested. He swayed on his knees, reaching out a hand with which to steady himself on the edge of the font, only to flail as his hand passed through the stone.

Xuko glanced down at himself; he was fuzzy around the edges, like he was seeing himself rendered by a low-resolution holoscreen. His body felt as though it was moving in a thousand different directions and with a start Xuko realized that it was- he was mistified.

With conscious effort, Xuko willed his form to stay together, and was rewarded with a more normal shape. Movement, too, was difficult, but he was able to stand back up and face Laphisto after a few seconds of concentration.

"Can you hear me?" Xuko asked, looking back at the Kiev'arian. The Zabrak had no idea why the Green Gas Lady had forbidden Laphisto to drink, but it would be awkward if they suddenly resided on two separate planes of existence.

Behind Xuko, the door leading deeper into the temple yawned; it secrets and perils waiting to be discovered.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes slipping shut as he exhaled a long, tired sigh. The Zabrak's justification was about what he expected — stubborn, half-thought-out, and delivered with the kind of confidence that usually preceded a bad decision. He took a moment to breathe, grounding himself before he spoke. "Just because you're not the first to do something doesn't mean it's sa—"

His words cut off as his eyes opened again just in time to see Xuko lean forward and scoop up a handful of the glowing water. The realization hit a fraction too late the surface rippled once, then the Zabrak drank. Laphisto's shoulders slumped, his wings shifting with a faint rustle as he tilted his head back in disbelief.

"Oh, for the love of the Gods…" he muttered under his breath, the frustration in his tone undercut by weary resignation. He let his hand drag down his face, fingers brushing against the old carbonite scars at the corner of his eye before lowering his arm again. Whatever came next, he already knew it wasn't going to be simple.

Laphisto stood silently, watching as the Zabrak's form flickered in and out of sight first dissolving into nothing, then coalescing again like smoke caught in a gust. His brow furrowed as he extended his senses, studying the strange shift in the man's presence. The Force around him no longer flowed in clean, steady lines; it drifted and wavered like a mist, thin and formless. Whatever that pool had done, it had changed him of that much, Laphisto was certain.

He couldn't begin to guess how. Dathomiri magic was not something he understood, nor did he ever have much desire to. Power like that tended to take more than it gave. Still, he found himself quietly fascinated despite the situation. There was a strange comfort in not knowing everything in realizing that, even after millennia of war and wandering, the galaxy still had its mysteries. It made the endless search a little less hollow. He gave a faint rumble, neither approval nor disapproval just a sound that filled the heavy silence between them.

When Xuko turned back to answer him, Laphisto's lone ear gave a faint flick a small, unconscious motion as he debated whether or not to toy with the man. For a moment, the idea lingered, a spark of amusement cutting through the monotony of battle and mystery. But the thought passed as quickly as it came when the massive stone doors ahead began to grind open, their ancient mechanisms groaning like the throat of the world itself.

He exhaled a quiet sigh, more weary than exasperated, and muttered just loud enough to be heard, "Y'know, it's not like I've been around for several thousand years or anything. Almost as if I might know a thing or two."

The words carried a hint of sarcasm the kind that came naturally to someone far too used to being ignored despite his age. And while what he said was true enough, he was also painfully aware that for more than nine-tenths of that time, he'd been locked in carbonite, drifting through the centuries like a relic.

Still, every era he had lived through had left something behind scraps of knowledge, flashes of wisdom, or scars that taught him more than most could ever learn in a dozen lifetimes. As the door finished its slow crawl open, Laphisto adjusted his grip on his broadsaber and gave Xuko a sideways glance
Xuko Pagoi