Legacies

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

Vrak didn't respond to her again, stepping forward to remove the small sphere from the part of the door that was still exposed.

Then, slowly, he stepped into the darkened room. The chamber echoed as he stepped inside, a lull in the air seemed to fill the room a moment after he entered. For a second nothing happened, then suddenly on the far side of the chamber a soft glow began. The Pureblood hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out with the force.

A spark jumped across the room, then another, then another, one by one a dozen torches erupted into life all around the room. Each of them held an unnatural flame of dark red, a fire born not of chemistry but the force itself. The torches brought light to the darkened chamber, revealing a massive circular hall. A huge pit composed most of the room, a central bridge leading up to a circular platform. In the middle of the platform was a small pedestal, and just beyond it was a throne.

Vrak glanced back at Sera for just a moment, then slowly stepped forward across the bridge.

He heard he follow behind her, the doors closing as soon as both Pureblood and Twi'lek had cleared. Vrak turned as the stone began to rumble, falling shut within just a few moments to seal the two of them into the chamber.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The doors closing made her incredibly weary. If heartbeats were audible, hers would have been thunder. She was now trapped inside whatever this room was, with no weapons and a stomach that could turn at any moment. The massive void beneath the ancient bridge gave her no added comfort either, and if anything, further strained her nerves.

The bridge itself looked as though it might fall apart beneath its' own weight, let alone the two of them.

"This isn't foreboding or anything..." The snark in her voice was obvious.

Carefully she followed behind Vrak, eyes looking from left to right, head turning back once more to the doors that had sealed them within. Behind her head her tails shifted slowly, a small symbol of silent discomfort. It certainly didn't look like any kind of library, or anything a historian would have use for. This looked like a throne room of some cynical tyrant more than anything Vrak's ancestors would have used.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

"Well." Vrak said as he stepped from the bridge and onto the platform. "What else did you expect?"

She herself had said it before. Sith were brooding, angry things. They cared about power, strength, and attempted to build their own grandeur. He had never been within this chamber, but its architecture did not surprise him. It was the Throne that put him off. His Ancestors had never been Emperor's, they were not Kings. A throne was out of place. By all accounts he had been the only one ambitious enough to claim what he had wanted, the rest had all been...plotters.

He frowned for a moment, then approached the small pedestal.

From his pocket he pulled out the black sphere, his fingers holding it delicately for just a moment until he slowly slid the sphere into place. A second passed, then three metal struts popped up and over the black sphere. They locked the device into place, holding it and causing a spark of life to appear from it's center. The black orb shifted, concentric circles forming around it as blackened plates began to move and open until eventually a central crystal was revealed.

A sudden spike of power erupted, a red wave that pulsed from the holocron and rushed over both him and Sera.

In an instant a dozen images began to flare up all around them, holograms or perhaps projections that showed dozens, if not hundreds of images. Battles, coronations, Council meetings, hundred upon hundreds of years of data.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"I suppose asking for there not to be a massive hole in the ground accompanied by a death bridge and singular platform would be too much."

She rolled her eyes, standing off to the side once they had made it across and to the platform itself. Though just as she was about to inquire about the throne and why it would have been there, a sudden burst of light from the sphere where it was now attached momentarily blinded her. Only when she reopened her eyes did she glimpse at the thousands of images frozen in time throughout the chamber. Each one depicted a different time, place, scene, era.

The Twi'lek glanced around, looking for anything that could seem familiar to her, though truthfully it was unlikely that she would find anything of note hidden within these walls, but perhaps he would know."Do you recognize any of this?" Was what they were seeing the information stored within the holocron? Or something else entirely?

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

He frowned for a moment.

His eyes bounced from place to place, tracing across the images until he finally found something he recognized. Slowly the Sith Lord wandered around the pedestal, his hand reaching out towards one of the images. His fingers slipped through it, the image caught almost as if he had taken hold of it. The Pureblood frowned for just a moment, then slowly spread the image. The depiction expanded as Vrak slowly carried it over towards Seraphina.

"This is Dromund Kaas." He said quietly. "When the Emperor first took it for himself."

The image depicted half a dozen Sith Lords, at the center of them standing a man taller than the others, his face impassive but an edge to the way he carried himself. The others seemed to shy away from him, either weary or afraid. Vrak frowned for a moment before releasing the image, grasping another one from the air. "This is the Jedi's assault on Korriban."

He tossed than away, then pulled another.

"This is Korriban...during the great hyperspace war." Thousands of years before Vitiate had even been alive. Vrak frowned for a few seconds, his gaze drifting over the different images and texts that floated all around them. "It's a history of my people. A complete one."

The Pureblood frowned for a moment, letting the images continue to float as he turned towards the throne.

Confusion pulled across his features, something that would be more than evident to Seraphina. "I expected...more."

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Vrak showed her the images, explained a time long ago when some emperor had ruled the now desolate rock planet. Which Emperor? When, exactly? She had no frame of reference as to whom he was speaking of. She knew bits and pieces of Sith history, but the vast majority of it had escaped her. The Twi'lek was hardly a historian, her people were mostly farmers and simple merchants. The fact that she had any connection to the Force at all was a sheer fluke, and her priorities weren't learning of Sith culture. Not back then, and only by extension now.

"I see." She finally led with. Though why he was disappointed in a complete historical archive of his entire people confused her. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

She raised a brow, lekku curling inwards towards her breasts.

"What else did you expect to find here? That's more than most species have of their ancestors. That holocron is an heirloom of your family. You said your lineage were the keepers of this information." What he found made logical sense. What else could there have possibly been to find?

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

He frowned, glancing back at her for a moment then at the images.

"I..." Vrak trailed off, wandering for a moment among the floating archive. It didn't sit right with him. He had known his father had been a fool, he had known his grandfather had been the same. Yet his assumption had always been that their ambition had been burned away by centuries of living upon Athiss, but this...this...

The Sith Lord turned, slowly wandering towards the Onyx throne. His fingers ran over it, touching the armrest for just a few moments. Part of him expected something to happen, the darkside to stir or some sort of power to flare, but instead the throne simply remained inanimate. Vrak paused, then slowly turned back towards Seraphina.

"I expected ambition." He told her truthfully, slowly lowering himself to sit upon the throne. "Desire for power."

His fingers wrapped around the armrest. "I expected my ancestors to be Sith. Waiting, plotting, hiding away some secret that would eventually grant them what they needed to rule over an Empire."

Yet after all of this he found they were nothing but scholars.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

For a moment the woman looked towards Vrak with pity. He looked as though his greatest dreams had been smothered in the crib. It was a side of him she hadn't quite seen before. It was nauseating to look at. Or maybe that was just how she as feeling overall. Still, it was a sight for sure. Finally she scoffed, head shaking and lip pulling to the side with furrowed brows.

"They weren't what you thought. So what? You said yourself that only the strong rule, and they never did. You knew that, didn't you? So what did you expect to find here? A master plan for how they planned to rule if ever they were strong enough in the eyes of the Sith? They were knowledge keepers. That is your lineage. They weren't warriors, not conquerors."

The words were harsh perhaps, but they were the truth.

Slowly the Twi'lek sat down, her back against the pedestal, eyes watching Vrak muse about the throne, her forearms settling atop her knees.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

His fingers splayed out against the throne.

She was right of course. In all honesty he shouldn't have expected what he had. The power of his family isn't what had brought him here, it wasn't what had lead him to the Council and it was most certainly not what had seen to the rise of the Resurgent Empire. His family was not a clan of warriors. They were scholars, the learned few who kept the histories. Perhaps he had simply been in denial, but with the truth noe revealed there was little that he could do.

"And yet." His fingers tightened into a fist. "I am."

No one could deny him that. He had taken Korriban, Telos, Malachor, now Dromund Kaas. Vrak had conquered, he had taken and grasped for what he wanted. He alone had brought the Empire to heel, he alone had brought them to where they were now, driven the Council forward and brought Athiss back to the forefront of the galaxy. His gaze drifted from Sera to the images above, locking on those of Vitiate, of his conquests, of the destruction on Nathema.

"But I am lacking." He told her quietly.

The truth was he had never held the one gift that he'd always required, Sith Sorcery. It was what the old ones had called for, what they had used to ascend to true power. Naga Sadow, Marka Ragnos, even Vitiate himself.

"I have conquered. I have forged an Empire." His fist tightened to white knuckles. "But this will be the extent of my legacy."

Frustration, rage boiled within him.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The mixture of emotions he was exuding was a bit bewildering to the Twi'lek. She had seen him enraged, furious, and near uncontrollable, but not this. He was disappointed and melancholy, as well as angry. What he had wanted was exactly what he had been achieving all along, yet with each victory there seemed to be another desire to be found, or the victory itself was not what he had hoped for. He was looking for something that was perhaps not to be found.

Her right hand raised, wiping the bit of sweat from her forehead. The air was hot, stale within the chamber. Left abandoned for millennia.

"Then what more do you want?"

Then suddenly, that boat on rough seas feeling came creeping back. Sera scrambled forward, leaning her head over the edges of platform as a grotesque groan and gag preceded the turbulent vomiting that followed. It was there she stayed for a long minute, simply lingering, twin tails draped behind her back, eyes looking down into the blackness.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

For a moment disgust colored his features.

The Sith Frowned, and then slowly looked at Sera. He wanted to judge her, mostly because he had absolutely no idea what was wrong with her and in that moment his patience was rather thin. The Pureblood stalled as she finished, holding herself off the side of the platform. Vrak waited, watching her.

Then instead of an answer he focused on her. "What is the matter with you?"

He had stayed himself from asking until now, but he was at the end of his patience.

"Are you sick?" He begged of her. "Has a medical droid attended you?"

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"Yes, sick. No, droid."

Her voice echoed into the void below. Finally her arm dragged across her mouth, the foul acidic smell assaulting her nose and forcing a terrible grimace as she lifted her head back up and leaned once more against the pedestal. Green eyes looked towards Vrak, still brewing in seeded rage from the throne, in part from his lack of discovery, the other the inconvenience of her current situation in his presence.

"Caught something on the last jump. One of your infected crew no doubt brought something on board and passed it along."

Passing the blame was easy enough. Destroyers had tens of thousands of crew members, recycled air systems, and scarce few communal areas that meant germs tended to stick around. "I just need rest." She assured the Sith, if for no reason other than to divert his annoyance elsewhere, rather than towards her.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

He watched her for a few more moments in silence. Part of her story rang false. Though it was possible, perhaps even likely that she had caught some sort of illness aboard the the myriad of ships she traveled on, he found it somewhat convenient.

Her illness had caused her to miss the fighting on Dromund Kaas. She had rested plenty, and by now she should have been feeling better, not worse. Yet here she was, spewing bile into a pit that had been built thousands of years ago by his ancestors. The SIth Lord narrowed his eyes for a few moments, glancing towards the Twi'lek as he tried to study her. Vrak had almost no medical knowledge aside from the basics, though that hardly seemed enough at the moment.

"Come here." He beckoned her.

A part of the Pureblood was still somewhat disgusted by her display of the illness, but right now curiosity and simple lack of patience were driving him forward.

Either she was sick, and required attention, or there was something else wrong.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Come here?

She nearly asked if that was an order, but she hadn't the energy to argue his meaning. Rather, she slowly slid her way back up, rubbed her face with one single pink hand, and then proceeded to do as he asked. Their distance wasn't far, and it took only a few seconds to reach the Sith as he sat upon the odd looking throne that his ancestors seemed to have built, but for what purpose she hadn't the faintest idea.

"I'm fine. I told you, it will pass."

Throughout the past week or two there had been some reprieve. An hour here, a couple of hours there, a spat of nausea and fatigue followed by rest, a meal whenever the mood struck her, and then the cycle repeated. It was an unusual illness for sure, and a lasting one, but she was confident that it would pass in time, adamant that she needn't see a droid for medical care, only to be told that she had caught something from one of the crew.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

He watched her in silence for a few moments after she reached him, his expression neutral for a few seconds as he inspected her.

A paet of him wished that he had more medical knowledge, mostly because it would help in half a dozen different ways. Nevertheless The Sith Lord watched Sera as she stood in front of him, her annoyance at his persistence more than evident in the expression upon her face. She thought it a fleeting thing, but some illnesses within the galaxy could appear to be far less troubling than they actually were.

Vrak frowned a moment more, then reached out.

A gentle tug would see Sera pulled into his lap, something that both she and her stomach would very likely object to. Yet in that moment Vrak didn't particularly care for that, as long as she didn't spew bile all over him anyways.

"Perhaps it will." He commented as he felt the heat of her skin. "Or perhaps it won't."

That was the true concern. "You are worth far too much to me to have a cold kill you."

His insistence would irritate her, but he was hardly in the mood to argue.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"Why are you being so persistent about this? Have you never been ill?!" For a moment her temper flared before subsiding back within. All she wanted to do was to crawl back to her bed and sleep, not have him pull her onto his lap like a child and argue with him about whether or not a stubborn cold was going to kill her. She had fought worse things in life, an unusually strong cold wasn't going to be what ended her. "I said I would be fine. What more do you want?"

There was a few moments of silence that followed.

"I don't need some medical droid programmed to tell me I'm sick to know I'm sick."

Green eyes looked about the rest of the chamber, before settling back on Vrak.

"Is that what you want? To hear a droid tell me 'Yes, you're sick. Go rest."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

”Yes” Vrak stated simply.

Though she did not like it, there was no cost to it. Vrak literally had access to an entire nations healthcare system. He had droids, doctors, researchers and hundreds of others that would attend these things for him. If he could at least ensure that Sera only had a slight sickness as she claimed then he would know when she was going to be better.

Learning that would be as important as what was wrong with her.

”You.” He began as his arms settled in around her, holding her. ”Are not something I can afford to lose.”

His words could be mistaken for sentiment, though Sera would likely suspect otherwise. Still he continued on.

”At least with your illness confirmed we’ll know just how much rest you require.” He doubted very much she would find that idea of any comfort, but again Vrak didn't particularly care. At the moment she was useless to him, and with more battles yet to come he couldn't have that. At least that was what he told himself.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Their eyes met, another moment of silence passed. "You irritate me." She bluntly stated. "Fine. But I expect to be left to my peace afterwards."

It wasn't that Sera was afraid of being evaluated, or of the cost to do so. It was simply a waste of time, time she could spend in bed. She knew what was wrong, and even if she didn't, it would pass all the same, just as any sickness before had. It wasn't like she had been bitten by some poisonous serpent on a fringe world, or taken a bad dose of spice from a shady dealer.

But it was obvious that he wasn't going to let the subject go, even despite his frustration with the disappointment from the uncovering of his father's life's work.

Therefore there wasn't much left to do other than get it over with. "I will get a prognosis this afternoon."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

”Good” Vrak stated simply, leaning back within the throne for just a moment.

The Pureblood wasn't entirely sure what to do next. The secrets within the holocron did him no good, he held Kaas, but there were a dozen obstacles still in his way. The Sith Lord scowled slightly, his head leaning forward as he gently rested up against Seras shoulder.

He did not want to show weakness, but at the moment he was for a loss.

Vrak let out a sigh, frustration pulling through him. Anger still prickled across his skin and in truth he was still ready to kill at the drop of a hat. His finger tightened upon Sera’s skin for just a few moments, another breath passing from his lungs as he glanced around the chamber.

”We’ll return later.” Vrak said quietly. ”After youve had your rest.”

He kissed her shoulder.

His touch was rough, wanting, but restrained. Vrak knew enough to keep himself in check, for now.

--​

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The Twi'lek held the piece of flimsy in her hand, green eyes staring down, unblinking, unchanging. She'd walked from the clinic back to the citadel, having abandoned the transport that had been sent for her. She needed the time to herself, to be alone. It would take the Twi'lek two hours to make her way back, having walked in half a dozen circles, made several pauses to sit and dwell on her own thoughts, and finally shuffled quickly into the apartment that seemed vacant for the moment, closing the door to the washroom with a soft click.

Standing before the mirror Sera looked at the words written, then to her reflection in the glass. She was sick, as the words confirmed, but hardly due to what she'd expected. Something far more lingering than a passing, stubborn cold caught from a filthy crew member aboard the star destroyer. Index finger and thumb rubbed the bridge of her nose, considering her options. For now all she wanted was a quiet moment to relax and simply think about nothing. With flimsy folded and tucked away into her pants the Twi'lek made her way from the refresher to the bed, undressed, and allowed herself to fall beneath the blankets, pulling a pillow over her head to drown the daylight from her vision.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]