Private From Temple to Palace to Temple Again

[Mercy]

THE SITH TEMPLE, FORMALLY KNOWN AS THE IMPERIAL PALACE, FORMALLY KNOWN AS THE JEDI TEMPLE
CORUSCANT

Nyara Dakhan
​

The one good thing about lacking bureaucracy was that you could get things done fast. Rapidly. The Imperial Palace was still in a state of flux, being repaired slowly, but most of the holes that Mercy had blown into it with the power borrowed from Srina were all practically patched up. The Destroyer had been dismantled and removed in the first weeks, which made sense, because if that anti-matter reactor had blown... they would have had to rebuild the whole damned thing.

Mercy didn't bother with the Academy too much.

It wasn't hers to worry about. That responsibility went to Vestra Tane as the third Triumvir, who seemed to take to it with pure unadulterated joy. But since Mercy had decided to move the Emperor's Skyhook over the former Palace and put Throneworld above that? The presence of the walking mountain could be felt much more often than it ever had on Desevro. She hadn't cared about Desevro.

Its close cultural and historic proximity to Tion had always left a bad taste in her mouth.

But there was no such issue with Coruscant.

She was about to go back towards the atrium, a specially constructed place that had access to the elevator that would run up to the Skyhook, when she noticed something odd. No, not something, someone.

"Darling, are you looking for something?" Mercy asked lightly as those amber eyes noticed the Pureblood Sith wandering about. As if she didn't quite know where to go or who to talk to. "This is not the place to be dallying about, you know... dangerous people are afoot..." Her voice going to a hush, as if she was telling a secret, while smirking her smirk.

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Location: Feth If I Know
Tag: Mercy
Wearing Something Akin To This ​

Nyara was still trying to figure out how in the hells she had found herself here. She wouldn’t admit that she was lost - oh no, that would admit to weakness - but in her growing agitation, she was beginning to curse herself for following that foolish man’s directions. Varin Mortifier, if I ever see you again, I am going to take your spine and wear the bones as a damn crown. You couldn’t have come with me, or met me here, and introduced me to people here or at least made sure I went the right fething direction?!

She had gone to the Academy on Desevro that belonged to some new arising Sith group who called themselves ‘The Sith Covenant’ - in hopes of perhaps finding herself a Master, or a new direction. Korriban and Kor’ethyr Academy, and her family Clan, could only offer so much to her - but now she needed to prove herself worthy of standing on her own and making her own decisions, instead of waiting for something to just happen.

Perhaps new opportunities would arise with this…group, faction, Order…whatever it was. New faces to see, new names to take note of, a fresh start.

So far, her ‘fresh start’ was turning into a pile of tuk’ata crap. She didn’t know anyone, didn’t know where she was supposed to go, who she was supposed to talk to. She ambled on through various halls of the so called Academy, waiting to see if someone made an appearance long enough for her to interrogate them and show her where she needed to go.

"Darling, are you looking for something?"

Nyara turned around rather sharply, her crimson eyes landing upon someone, finally. She gave this individual a glance over, in the way one might give a weapon, before Nyara’s eyes settled upon the other’s face.

"This is not the place to be dallying about, you know... dangerous people are afoot..." the other said, ending her statement with almost a whisper, and smirk to play upon her lips.

“None more dangerous than an irritated Sith.” Nyara quipped back, her voice surprisingly rich and deep for her feminine form. “And I am rather aggravated. I was directed here and told to find someone to speak to about this damn place to see if it is something worth my while. You are the first person I’ve seen since arriving. So you will tell me where to go and who I need to speak to. This is the Sith Covenant's Academy, yes?” The statement was delivered as finality, as if her word was spoken and this poor soul was to cater to her demand without blinking. Perhaps, if Nyara hadn't been so needled by the shameful idea that she was lost, perhaps she would have considered the delivery of her words better.

Too late to take them back, not that Nyara would anyway.

 

[Mercy]

Nyara Dakhan

Nyara turned around rather sharply, her crimson eyes landing upon someone, finally. She gave this individual a glance over, in the way one might give a weapon, before Nyara’s eyes settled upon the other’s face.

And for Nyara it would seem that this individual just kept going and going.

A mountain alive, with eyes currently amused and lips curled into mirth, but the way her hands resembled shovels and her arms were likened to tree branches one might guess what violence she was capable of.

"Oh?" Innocently, taking a step towards her, and did the floor not rumble just a touch at the shift in pressure and weight? "And pray tell, what would a girl such as yourself be looking for here exactly?" Oh, Mercy noticed the lines of muscle adorning Nyara, the battle stance and way her hips shifted to account for any immediate engagement if needed.

"Soft, pretty, but with a loose tongue." Head tilted there. "The fact you do not see any monsters, does not mean there aren't there, darling."

And now Mercy stood over her, looming, part of the environment and yet so present in the moment she seemed carved into reality with violence.

"I do believe you are lost." The smirk losing its warmth quality, now the hunger coming out with sharp teeth.

"Do you know what we do with lost rude things in the Sith Temple?"

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Location: A Temple I Guess?
Tag: Mercy ​

The woman before Nyara was built unlike any of the other women she’d seen before - except perhaps for the female Red Sith warriors amongst the Pureblood Korribani clans, and this clearly was no Pureblood. She was solid muscle, and the way she carried herself told Nyara that this particular woman was someone well acquainted with the art of war.

Still, Nyara held her ground, even as the faintest prickle of danger tickled the back of her crimson skinned neck.

The woman before her took a step closer, and the Pureblood couldn’t tell if her words had amused this mountain of muscle, or had pissed her off.

"And pray tell, what would a girl such as yourself be looking for here exactly?"

“You don’t know me well enough to call me ‘girl’.” Nyara replied back somewhat cooly, though the corner of her lips twitched upwards in a somewhat cocky smirk that mirrored the other’s. Was she having fun with this? Perhaps. It certainly alleviated her irritation in the moment. But her common sense was telling her to chill out and not press her luck too soon, otherwise she wouldn’t get the answers she wanted…more likely a blade through her chest.

"The fact you do not see any monsters, does not mean they aren't there, darling."

The mountain that was a woman stepped closer, until she was practically looming over Nyara. The Pureblood felt one of her eyebrows arch slightly with the new sensation; normally she was the one to tower over others, casting her shadow over her lessers.

Now she was standing in their place.

She didn’t quite know how she felt about that, yet.

"I do believe you are lost." The half grin the Mountain displayed shifted to something more…predatory, and Nyara noted this as her own eyes sharpened, alert now. "Do you know what we do with lost rude things in the Sith Temple?"

Once more, Nyara’s eyes travelled over the form of the other in front of her. Was she sizing her up? Maybe. Was she appreciating what she was seeing? Absolutely. There was no shame in that.

Nyara casually crossed her arms in front of her chest, and tilted her head as she slid her crimson gaze back to the other’s face. Her expression was guarded but when she spoke next - her voice had lost its edge.

“I am lost, ...as much as I hate to admit to that. As for what you all do to ‘lost rude things in a Sith temple’, well…I could tell you what we would do - considering my kind were the first to build Sith temples in the first place.” she smiled, faintly. “But it doesn’t matter. Now…as for what I am looking for here…that would be a fresh start.”

There was a short pause, before Nyara shrugged her shoulders. “...And perhaps a Master worthy enough for me. But that is yet to be seen.”

 

[Mercy]

Nyara Dakhan

“You don’t know me well enough to call me ‘girl’.”

Mercy laughed there softly.

"Such cheek." She said with a purr, but there was clear amusement in her eyes. "Brave little one." Reaching out to lightly stroke Nyara's jaw with a golden finger from a golden arm, monstrous and terrible. It was that touch alone that would give Nyara an idea what she was dealing with. Without the touch the woman in front of her looked dangerous, yes, a mountain of muscle and ill-intent.

The touch revealed the rest: it would be as if Nyara was struck by lightning. The sensation of pure unadulterated power surging out of nowhere straight into the Pureblood.

"Or perhaps ignorant." Mercy continued innocently as she withdrew her hand again.

"Ah, yes, the Pureblood Sith that forged the first Kingdom of the Sith." The mountain nodded, before gesturing for her to follow. "A people close to my heart, considering the bloodshed and brutality." A compliment, perhaps, but then she glanced over her shoulder. "Your people have fallen very low since those glory days however, you would do well to remember that."

They'd turn some corridors and then reach a hall, ornate and more beautiful than the others.

Inside were Graspborn, cultists, but she'd probably not recognize them. They stayed frozen in place, looking straight ahead without interrupting them as Mercy wandered to the other end of the room.

Where there was an elevator.

Seemingly carved straight through the foundation of the temple, going up.

"Going my way?" She said with a smirk as she stepped inside and looked towards Nyara.

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Location: A Temple, and Now An Elevator...?
Tag: Mercy ​

Crimson eyes narrowed at the mountain that was the woman before Nyara upon hearing the soft laugh. Despite the tingle of danger that seemed to prick at the back of her neck with this stranger’s approach, Nyara didn’t move. Even as the moment transpired, and her eyes flickered to the strange golden arm that lifted to trace a line down her crimson hued jaw - to the terrible jolt of power that seized her entire body - the Pureblood still didn’t move. Even though her breath stopped in her lungs, and her heart lurched unsteadily within her chest, unsure if it was supposed to keep beating or not.

Then it passed as swiftly as it had come.

A trickle of dark blood dripped from Nyara’s nose, her red eyes now rimmed with golden fire as she cycled through a myriad of emotions: rage, fear, uncertainty, then awe. Nyara, as bold and brash as she was, wasn’t stupid. She understood very clearly that in that moment - she had played with fire, and had received a gentle correction for her attitude from a dark sider far more powerful than she was. It sobered the Pureblood, and reminded her that she wasn’t on Korriban anymore. She couldn’t push her weight around in this foreign place.

Nyara blinked, and came back into her own mind and awareness sharply, keenly, wiping the blood away when she felt it cooling against her skin. She recalled that she had said something about her people and something to do with temples, and now the giant woman with the strange golden arm was responding back to her.

"Ah, yes, the Pureblood Sith that forged the first Kingdom of the Sith."

There came a gesture for Nyara to follow, and she did so with only a moment’s hesitation.

"A people close to my heart, considering the bloodshed and brutality. Your people have fallen very low since those glory days however, you would do well to remember that."

Nyara met the eyes of the woman who glanced over her shoulder back at the Red Sith - still fearless and bold, but there was a clear measure of wary respect there now. No one had quite left such an impact upon the Sith Pureblood. None of the so-called ‘Sith Lords’ on Korriban or Dromund Kaas. That alone was noteworthy to Nyara.

“You are correct. We have fallen far, a shadow of our former glory. Some of us, my Clan included, wish to see us rise again and reclaim what is rightfully ours. But it is a battle most believe cannot be won.” Nyara said quietly as the two of them traversed the corridors, a confession of sorts. After several steps, the young Pureblood spoke again, her voice more firm than it had been moments prior. “But that won’t stop some of us from trying to reclaim our former glory.”

They reached a hall, this one far more ornate and beautiful than the others. Crimson eyes flickered over every detail, and the figures within that seemed frozen in place, unmoving as she and the mountain of a woman moved past them.

At the end of the room was an elevator that seemed carved from the temple itself, leading upwards.

The gold-arm woman stepped within, asking with a smirk if Nyara was ‘Going her way’.

Nyara hesitated once more, for a heartbeat. Then she stepped inside the elevator with the other woman. “I have no idea where I am going. But I am willing to follow your lead, wherever it may take me. Where…does this lead? And who are you, exactly?”

 

[Mercy]

Nyara Dakhan

"Any battle can be won if you have faith." Mercy said idly as she leaned against the back of the elevator. Nobody had believed the Covenant would be able to smash the Empire. Nobody had believed she'd be able to kick the throne from under the old Emperor. But Mercy had managed it, while being one of the few believing in herself.

True belief... was all you needed.

When Nyara stepped in, it binged and then began to speed upwards.

Sooner rather than latter they shot out of the temple proper.

Instead they were outside now. Showing the site of the Siegemother in the distance, a corridor carved through the surface by its crash. It was beautiful really.

"The elevator leads to outer space. It's a space-elevator." Mercy explained lightly. "It goes up to a Sky-Hook over the planet." And that Sky-Hook, which had once belonged to an ancient Emperor and then passed many hands afterwards, was connected to a grander piece of work. But it wasn't done yet, still... under construction, so to speak.

"And as for me... I am an interested party. I do enjoy watching acolytes with promise grow into Lords of purpose. We are yet to see if you will be that sort of Lord however."

A glance towards her.

"What is it that you'd do with the power you are trying to gain? Would you go back to your people and lead them to the promised land?" Her voice a bit dry, a bit sardonic.

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Location: A Sky-Hook? ... Outer Space?
Tag: Mercy ​

Any battle can be won if you have faith.

Nyara was chewing on those words when the elevator she stepped into chimed and began a rapid ascension upwards. She felt the shift of it in her belly, the drop and rise, and the sensation of it sent a rather pleasant shiver across her skin.

After a moment, the other woman there with Nyara answered the Pureblood’s inquiry as to where the elevator went. It led to outer-space, apparently - to a ‘Sky-Hook’ as she called it. She didn’t divulge where the Sky-Hook would lead them, but Nyara figured she would learn the answer to that sooner rather than later. For now, she was along for the ride, taking in the sights that met her crimson gaze.

She still kept a somewhat cautious eye on the mountain of muscle; that touch that had jolted the Sith Pureblood had revealed far more than what she first thought about this person. The fact that they had incredible power in the Force - at least enough to hide their presence so much so that not even Nyara could have sensed her prior to that moment.

One who hid their power, hid their presence from others - was not someone to be taken for granted, or lightly.

The Pureblood turned her gaze more fully upon the other woman as the other half of her question was answered, in a way. "And as for me... I am an interested party. I do enjoy watching acolytes with promise grow into Lords of purpose. We are yet to see if you will be that sort of Lord however."

Though she didn’t receive a name, that comment did capture Nyara’s attention. She also realized that she was determined to earn the right to know this person’s name - if that was what she had to do. That resolve settled as a certain hardness to her gaze, seen as the other glanced her way.

"What is it that you'd do with the power you are trying to gain? Would you go back to your people and lead them to the promised land?"

The hint of contempt in her words was not lost on Nyara. If it was anyone else, she might have had an equally snarky comment in return but not at this time. A soft scoff did escape her lips, however, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the choice of words.

“We are on our ‘promise land’ already.” she replied with a hint of dryness in response. “Would I go back to them? Yes, I would. If only to reconnect with my family and my Clan and ensure they haven’t killed themselves off fighting with the other Sith Clans. If I stayed, my Father would only seek to pair me off with a ‘worth male’ to secure an alliance with another Clan. And none of those hot heads are worthy of me anyway.” she growled, huffing slightly. The one male she had been interested in…had drifted away from her and into the arms of another. Just as she was about to introduce him to her Father too. She still felt the sting of that, deeper than she thought she might.

“As for what I would do with the power that I seek?” She paused, thoughtful, her eyes watching out the elevator as they continued on their way. “I don’t know yet.” The answer came, blunt and honest. She returned her gaze back to the other woman.

“Where…does this ‘Sky-Hook’ lead to, Mountain Woman?”

 

[Mercy]

Nyara Dakhan

Mercy's nostrils flared at the concept of this warrior being married off to a 'worthy male'.

That was the only reaction Nyara got, but it would be telling enough, if she was paying attention.

Once upon a time Mercy had been in Nyara's shoes... somewhat, sorta.

As a young princess, being told that she was to marry a Duke's son, and then that she would be Empress... but that he would be Emperor. And that even though a Duke's son is lower in rank than a Princess, she'd be the one bowing to him. She had tried to push against it, tried to convince her mother that it was disgusting.

To no result.

In the end she had fled and by the time she was powerful enough to return on her own terms, Darth Carnifex had glassed her planet and killed her Imperial parents in their palace where they stood.

Oh, well.

None knew about this. Some suspected. Even that was too much for Mercy's liking.

“As for what I would do with the power that I seek?” She paused, thoughtful, her eyes watching out the elevator as they continued on their way. “I don’t know yet.”

"Honesty is refreshing in our business." Mercy drawled in response, giving her a light compliment, as they finally reached the top of the peak. In space, as they stepped out, a palace around them.

"It leads to the residence of the Empress in the Core, darling." She said with a chuckle, gesturing for her to follow. "You wish to meet someone who can actually help you. Then why not the person who initiated the War against the Empire and conquered the Core?"

They walked... the corridors grand and wide, palatal almost.

Archways, opulence, grandeur.

A testament to someone's ego.

"However, to seek for power, you must know what to use it for." Conversationally as they walked, looping it back to the earlier point. "Otherwise you will never break free from your chains. Do you understand?"

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Mercy ​

Nyara noticed the Mountain Woman’s reaction when she mentioned her possible fate should she stay with her Pureblood Clan, and a glimmer of acknowledgement and a faint smirk lifted the Sith’s lips. She understood that very subtle reaction for what it was. Whoever this woman was, did not either like the idea of ‘marriage’ (as the non-Sith called it), or did not like males. She wasn’t sure which one it was, but it didn’t really matter at the moment.

The moment shifted onward; her honesty seemed appreciated by the giant woman and though Nyara typically wasn’t one to give banthachit answers to questions to begin with, it was something she stored in mind for later.

“In a den of deceivers and manipulators who will do or say anything to get their way - yes I suppose honesty would be refreshing.” The red skinned woman replied as they reached the top of wherever it was they had been going.

Mountain Woman was kind enough to answer Nyara’s question about where the Sky-Hook led to, but it was an answer that Nyara was not expecting. "It leads to the residence of the Empress in the Core, darling. You wish to meet someone who can actually help you. Then why not the person who initiated the War against the Empire and conquered the Core?"

“ ‘Empress’? ” Nyara nearly choked on the word. She knew that the Sith Empire had an Emperor…or rather, an Empress now. The Pureblood had heard of the wars going on in the Galactic Core, but she had never paid too much attention to who had been fighting who, and for what. She suddenly wished she had paid closer attention to those details… “I - I am not -” She glanced down at herself, at her choice of wear. It was a more traditional Sith garment, meant for travelling, or fighting should the need arise.

It was not proper enough to meet someone of great authority like an Empress.

Nyara inhaled and pursed her lips, realizing that it was far too late now to deal with any of that, as she followed the giant woman through ornate and opulent halls that certainly seemed carved and made to feed one’s ego. It made her wonder just who she was going to meet, and what sort of person they might be.

Mountain Woman initiated another conversation as they walked, and the Pureblood cast her gaze towards the larger woman as she listened. “However, to seek for power, you must know what to use it for. Otherwise you will never break free from your chains. Do you understand?"

Nyara absorbed the words, and took a moment to consider the statement. “I do understand, yes. I suppose the answer of what to use it for, hasn’t been revealed to me yet. Or perhaps I haven’t thought about it as much as I should have.” She paused, her steps echoing down the hall as she gathered her thoughts to divulge a little further.

“Prior to my arrival at the…Academy temple?... my only focus had been to complete my studies at Kor’ethyr Academy on Korriban. I should have gained a Sith master by this point in my life, and that should have given me a direction to go - to point the power, so to speak. To be blunt, my existence was to bolster my family’s Clan status, and lineage. To bring them honor, in whatever or wherever I find myself. But what that looks like eludes me.”

 

[Mercy]

Nyara Dakhan

She clicked with her tongue as she listened.

It was a familiar tale and Mercy did not kid herself in thinking it was unique, just because she herself had experienced some proxy of it. But it only confirmed to her that this Galaxy was build on the foundational need to chain people. Chain women, yes, but people in general too. By old people, by those entrenched, who wished for everything to remain the same.

And they bend and broke people to fit their twisted puzzle.

"This is not something that is revealed to you, girl." Mercy finally said. "You speak of yourself as an object. Something that things happen to and you simply are there as an observer."

She grunted at that last bit. Disgusting display, but not her fault either.

"You must think of what you wish to be. And what you wish to do. Power does not matter. I have seen Sith who can summon black holes and storms that wipe out planets, but I will never consider them Lords, because they have no mastery of self. They move the way the Galaxy or the Force wishes them to move. Like a leaf in the wind."

Finally they reached a set of grand doors... and the Graspborn opened them, as if Mercy was a frequent guest.

When they entered the chambers?

When her eyes settled on the throne?

That's when Nyara might figure it out, even before Mercy kept walking.

That Throne was huge, sprawling, it made everything else look small in a chamber that was truly opulent. And it was perfectly made for the Mountain who now sat down on it.

Watching Nyara's expression with clear satisfaction.

"You wished to meet someone who matters. Now you have. What's your next move, girl?"

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Mercy ​

It was clear that whatever Nyara had to say on the topic at hand, did not sit well with the Mountain Woman. She clearly didn’t have the great views or opinions of those who would use others as objects - and Nyara didn’t blame her.

For a moment, the red skinned woman was silent as they continued onwards down the opulent hall, in thought - though that was interrupted with the giant woman beside her spoke again.

"You must think of what you wish to be. And what you wish to do. Power does not matter. I have seen Sith who can summon black holes and storms that wipe out planets, but I will never consider them Lords, because they have no mastery of self. They move the way the Galaxy or the Force wishes them to move. Like a leaf in the wind."

Now that gave Nyara pause, and really made her introspective. She’d never quite had such things said to her before, and it was a new way to think or approach the matter at hand. What did she wish to be? What did she wish to do? She was still in thought when they reached the grand doors, which was opened up before the two of them without fanfare.

It should have been the Sith’s clue that the giant woman walking with her was something other than just an average person walking around a Sith temple or supposed academy. But it didn’t really dawn on her until they approached closer to the empty, and clearly massive throne…and that was when her eyes grew somewhat wide and shifted from the seat of authority, to the Mountain Woman beside her.

The same woman who walked up and just sat down there - like she belonged.

The expression of satisfaction written across the Mountain’s face, said everything.

“You wished to meet someone who matters. Now you have. What's your next move, girl?"

There was the temptation to apologize for her earlier attitude and behavior - but she swallowed that back. She would not apologize for being herself. But the dynamics between them had shifted now, with this revelation. This giant woman of muscle and concealed power was the so-called Empress of the Core. It wasn’t a title without weight, either - enough so that Nyara did not speak right away. She weighed her words, her actions.

“I want to be a Lord, like how my ancestors once were - true Lords of the Sith. I want to have…power, not just in the abilities that I can wield through the Force, through sorceries and whatever else, but in influence as well. But I do not want to just have it handed to me. I want to earn it, fight for it. Carve my name in a place that I made for myself - not from something that was given to me. I want others to kneel when I look at them, or because they want to and not because I told them so.”

She straightened her back a little bit, and lifted her gaze (which had been distant) to look upon the Mountain woman on the throne, a fierce gleam coming into her crimson eyes. “If I want you to be the one to get me there - when what must I do to make that happen?”

 

[Mercy]

Nyara Dakhan

"Lofty goals..." Mercy said with a smile, finally pleased by an answer that Nyara gave. That was because ambition was a natural part of being Lord. No ambition, no greed, no hunger meant that there could be no Lordship. Not truly. Humility and humbleness were disgusting traits that had no place in the flesh they were forging.

"One must feed their ambition." Chin settling on her knuckles as she watched the woman in front of her. "Like a fire it might die one day if not properly maintained. The drudgery and monotony of life wants to choke it out. You might find a man you enjoy, you mate with him, you force out children and one day you wake up and realize you are satisfied with a house, a tree, an animal pet."

Her lips snarled into disgust.

"Or you carve your way to a crown and a throne and you petrify on said throne."

Her hand squeezed around the arm, causing a crack of a sound to echo through the room. They would have to repair it, but Mercy was a petty creature at the best of times.

Giving them things to do was a fun part of her day.

"Are you hungry, girl? Are you greedy with a hole inside of you that cannot be satisfied?"

Mercy leaned in, and in those eyes, Nyara would see exactly what Mercy was speaking of.

Boundless greed like a black hole that would never be full.