Private Not of Any World

[Efret Farr]

Engine combustion may have propelled the starship that had brought the former Jedi master to Kaas City, but it was whispers—unheard but still heeded—that had led her into the Thandon Nebula.

Something had happened on Brosi not too long ago, something that could have cost the Sith Order their control of all of Thandon. The defense of a keystone in the Order's resistance at the Treptel spaceport, the Rainmaker cannon battery, had temporarily slipped as infighting broke out on one of the platforms. Those stationed there were lucky that the lapse, albeit short, hadn't been consequential to the whole effort. It could have been devastating for all Sith, but instead the brunt of that affect had come down on three apprentices and a handful of other souls that had been unfortunate enough to witness the confusing carnage.

Force Empathy panged dully against her chest. More than the rain and wind kept her natural ability to feel others' emotions numbed; selective apathy still coursed through her veins, leftover from the Gungan Sacred Place where she succumbed to Shadows. Her fall had shifted her focus from a majority being spent caring for others and whatever was left being devoted to her own wellbeing vice versa. Even still, her Empathy clawed at her like a dying animal desperate to survive for all those involved, but especially for one Aerik Lechner.

He was the one she was here to find.

If the rumors were to be believed, and intuition told Efret that they were, Lord Lechner's cub had transformed amidst the battle and likewise turned against his allies. The reason was yet undetermined, at least publicly, but Efret strongly suspected that consequences for the incident would be harsh regardless of its truth. So she needed to get to him before the Order's Inquisitors or whoever they sent to do the job did.

Other words rippling uneasily through the Sith Order enough to reach the Covenant were that the younger Lechner hadn't become a simple Lupo like his father, but something else entirely. Some described whatever it was as demonic.

Sith of any variety didn't use that epithet lightly. They feared nothing but death, dreaded nothing but the beings that dwelt beyond the pale, were truly terrorized by nothing by the promise that their horrific legacies would not follow them into the Netherworld.

If any of Sith said that Aerik was a demon, then he was a demon. That was all the proof she needed.

And she knew that she needed answers for...someone's affliction. Hers? No. So, whose?

A faint ache had settled behind her eyes as she reached a large square in the southwestern district of the cite. She drew underneath an apartment building's wide awning to claim a reprieve from the ever-present drizzle. Tapas heat danced across her skin, raising goosebumps. A small, relieving sigh left her. Her eyes were drawn to the three stone obelisks reaching towards the gloomy sky out of a landscaped mound of earth like the hand of a rising dead man.

Force Sight was not nearly the same as the physical sight that Nirrah had shared with Efret. It was monochromatic, for one; for two, fine detail was lost entirely; and, for three, depth perception was difficult to infer; but this monument was already known to her. She didn't need Nirrah to lend her sharp eyes to know what the base's inscription read from here. This was the Monument to Lord Ergast, the discoverer of the Force Walk technique and first Sith Lord to be buried on this planet.

The Efret of months ago, years ago, decades ago, wouldn't have cowered away from the memorial. She would have been honored to see it, in fact, a piece of Sith history—but there wasn't a drop of that sentiment in her now. Instead, it was somewhat dissociated acknowledgement. It was here and so too she happened to be.

Aerik Lechner​

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Efret Farr​

The storm over Kaas City never broke. It hung low over the skyline, steady rain falling without pause and turning the durasteel walkways slick beneath passing traffic. Lightning moved behind the clouds in slow, measured pulses. It was constant and unchanging, part of the world rather than something that demanded attention.

Aerik had not intended to come this far into the city. He had not chosen a direction, and there had been no moment where he decided to leave the main thoroughfares behind. He had walked, and the city changed around him without resistance. Familiar districts gave way to quieter ones, and the movement itself lost importance somewhere along the way.

He stopped at the edge of the square without thinking about it. There was no reason to pause that he could point to, and no shift in the environment that required it. The decision did not feel like one he made. It simply happened, and he accepted it without examining it further.

Three obelisks stood at the center of the plaza, their dark stone rising straight through the rain. At a distance, there was nothing remarkable about them. They were solid, fixed, and unadorned in any way that would draw attention from the rest of the city. What stood out was the space around them. The square did not feel like an extension of Kaas. It felt set apart, as if the rest of the city had been built around it instead of through it.

Aerik stepped forward and crossed into the square at a steady pace. His boots moved across the wet stone without hesitation until he came to a stop within the open space. Rain gathered along his cloak and traced down the fabric in thin, steady lines, but he did not react to it or adjust his stance.

Nothing changed when he stopped. There was no visible shift in the air, no movement from the monument, and no surge of power that marked the moment. If anything had altered, it was not something that could be seen.

The change came from within. It began along his spine, faint enough that it could have been mistaken for the cold. The sensation moved inward and settled without building into anything sharper. It did not press or demand attention. It corrected. Something in him that had been slightly out of place aligned itself without effort and without instruction.

Aerik did not question it. He kept his gaze on the obelisks, not because they explained the feeling, but because there was nothing else that did. They were stone, set into the ground long before he arrived, and yet the space they occupied carried weight that did not come from their construction.

This place had been chosen for something. He did not know what that purpose had been, and the absence of that knowledge did not bother him. Whatever had been done here had not faded. Whatever remained did not resist him.

The rest of the city felt distant by comparison. The usual pressure of Kaas, the presence of people, movement, and intent, dropped away at the edges of the square. It did not disappear, but it no longer pressed in on him. The separation was too clean to be natural, leaving space where there should not have been any.

Aerik stood within that space without shifting his stance or adjusting for the rain. The stillness did not require effort, and it did not demand focus. It existed on its own, and he remained in it because there was no reason to leave.

Time passed without being measured. There was no clear point where the moment changed, only a gradual shift in awareness as something new entered the edge of his perception. It did not break the stillness or disrupt the space. It moved through it, distinct enough to separate itself from the rest of the city.

Aerik did not turn immediately. He recognized that someone had stepped into the square, close enough to register but not close enough to challenge him. That alone made them stand apart from everything else beyond the perimeter.

He remained facing forward for a moment longer. There was no urgency in the decision to acknowledge it. Whatever had drawn him to the square had not changed, and it did not weaken with the presence of another.

Then he turned his head.

His gaze moved from the obelisks to the edge of the square and settled on the figure beneath the awning. There was no tension in his posture and no outward sign of curiosity or concern. He took in what he needed to see without expression.

She was a stranger.

The distance between them remained, stretched across rain-slick stone with the monument at his back. Aerik did not move toward her, and he did not step away. He held his position without hesitation, as if there had never been another option.

Whatever had brought him there remained.