Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Deep Waters

The cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears, or the sea.

It had been an age since Bethany had been to Glee Anselm. It was comforting, in a small and distant way, to see that this place, at least, was mostly unchanged by the passing of the years.

At least, on the surface.

She had taken some time away from Monastery, away from the Order, away from all of it. Just a few days, here and there, to visit certain places. Places that had meant something in her previous life, like Naboo. Or simply places like Glee Anselm- places that held no strong memories, but that she remembered with a certain fondness.

There was no reason to be here, other than the barest tug of the Force and its constant, whispering murmur. She had learned, long ago, to trust that pull and follow it to where ever it led. This time it had been to a place she knew, and for once since being revived on Zonama Sekot, was very much as she remembered it.

With a press of her shoulder, she popped the upper hatch open on the small transport. Floating in the middle of the planet wide ocean, the tang of the salt water filled her nose immediately. The air was clear and calm, a steady wind sending the transport to a familiar rock as it bobbed on the surface. Climbing out onto the roof of the ship, Bethany breathed in deeply, tilting her face up to the sun with a soft smile.

She pulled a shoulder bag out behind her, sitting down and rummaging through it. A few tools, an underwater lamp, a knife. A rebreather. Kicking off her shoes and shrugging out of her tunic, she stood in calf length breeches and shift. Absently, she braided long black hair into a single rope down her back as she walked across the top of the ship toward the edge. Slinging the bag over her head and snugging it over her shoulder, she fit the rebreather into her mouth.

Once, over half a millennia ago, she had explored the reefs here. It had been during her days as a knight, during a brief period of peace not only in the galaxy but also within herself. Before she had been named a Master of the Council- before they had sent her to war for the first time. Only once, never again, but she had changed.

One thing that would never change however, was the simple joy of diving into deep waters. Her body cut the surface like a knife. Emerald eyes opened, small bubbles rising from the rebreather as she struck out, swimming with intent toward the reef several meters below the surface.

For almost an hour, she did nothing but move with the current, letting it tug her along. She remembered this part of the reef being brilliant with living corals, teeming with glittering fish- but now she saw what the ages had wrought. White bleached and deep, the reef was quiet and empty.

Of course, it hadn't merely been time that had done this, as she was soon to learn.

Bethany didn't remember the cave. She frowned, braid floating in the water beside her as she regarded the dark stone carefully. Had she come this far last time? So many memories were fractured and indistinct after spending five hundred years merged with the Forest, she simply didn't know. The current swirled and tugged, warm water feeding into a colder layer- she could see the place they met and slowly moved toward it. Unclipping the lamp, she thumbed it on, kicking her way into the cave, and the tunnels beyond.

If someone had asked her why she went in, let along traveled along hundreds of meters of tunnel, she couldn't really have said. But the current pulled, and Bethany, as always, listened.

Time lost meaning in the darkness. But eventually, there was a muted shimmer from above, the tunnel curving upward. Violet light rippled through the surface of the water above her.

Bethany broke the surface, water streaming down her face as she side armed to the edge. The cavern opened, wide and yawning and quiet. But the whir of machines working away could be heard, and she frowned slightly. Pulling herself onto the ledge, squeezed out her clothes and hair, gazing around. The cave had been carved from the stone, not solely by water and time, but by sentient hands as well.


The cause of the death of the reef around it.

There was no doubting it now. It wasn't the inexorable passage of time that had led to the decline of the ecosystem without, but the lingering sensation of darkness that inevitably leaked from this place.

Padding, barefoot and still dripping slightly, through the antechamber, Bethany probably should have turned back. Brought others back to explore. At the very least, contact [member="Michael Sardun"], and tell him what she had found. But instead she kept moving forward, drawn on by a current this time not of water, but of the Force.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​
The cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears, or the sea.
The iron grasp of the Sith had long since left Glee Anselm. At least on the surface. Below, deep within the depths of the deep water of Glee, the ocean pearl was still held firmly by darkness. He still remained, after all others thought him gone. Rarely seen anymore in the streets of Pieralos, but still kept in the loop by reliable contacts. His demands still made themselves to the top. The Sith were gone in all but name.

But these days his demands were simple, he required little but sanctuary from the ocean pearl. Glee Anselm was no longer another cog in the Sith war machine, nor the capital of the Sith Order. The Academy did not serve as its main training facility, though Pyrrhus saw to it that it did not fall completely out of use. It had been allowed to fade back into obscurity, those who knew forgetting, and those who came near feeling no need to investigate further. The ruins were better left unknown, once more becoming a secret. Dark sorcery was at play here, subtle and faded. It was not imposing its will, merely lingering in the waters as a suggestion.

The private ship of Darth Pyrrhus once more loomed above the planet. The transport carried him to the surface, and from there he took the shuttle to the Academy. The entire operation was kept on the down-low, moving through familiar and discrete sources. Without entourage this time, without guard. The Togruta had opted to come alone, to contemplate his future, past and present. It was a nice touch by the Force, given the unknown circumstances.

Emerging from the small body of water in the Academy’s restricted back area, Pyrrhus once more returned to what had become his base of operations in the shadows. From there the darkly robed man moved in towards the academy’s second entrance. The moment he took a step inside, he stopped. His head tilted slightly and his gaze drifted seemingly mindlessly to the roof. Something felt… Off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Cold and familiar, alarming yet soothing. At present time he knew not that he had company, but instead found his mind puzzled, as if trying to remember a train of thought that was clear a moment before but now seemed lost.

[member="Bethany Kismet"]

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