Seeds of Darkness Still Grow in the Light

[Armand Temi]

Bellatrix Celvina had been sent to Korriban by Darth Pyrrhus, the resident Sith ruler of Glee Anselm. She did not own her own ship, so a pilot and a handful of Nautolan Guards took The Pirate's Foe, a Mobquet Medium Transport planetside, and the guards escorted her to the Sith Academy. This turned a few heads from fellow Acolytes and Knights alike. Who was the blue-skinned girl with the escort? Was she a prisoner or someone more politically powerful?

But the Chiss/Balosar apprentice was neither. She was a normal Acolyte, there to run an errand for her master Darth Pyrrhus, who did happen to be a Voice of the Dark Lord. But that fact alone would not require the tight security near Bellatrix. She was not only a slave to her Togruta master, she was also a valuable witness in a matter of retribution for him against one of his enemies. And like most changes in her circumstances, Acolyte Celvina would try to twist it to her advantage somehow. Perhaps, I can bribe these guards to let me be for awhile. Remind them of just who is in charge now since I have proved my worth to Darth Pyrrhus.

Still, she hadn't proven much in the way of her training. In fact, if she wasn't careful she would turn into a failed Sith apprentice, and then her fate would not be so secure. She would most likely fight to the death to try and maintain her place as an Acolyte, be sold off again, or worse end up on the Eternal Pyre in the Valley of the Dark Lords. She shivered and clasped at her blue arms which were exposed in the long, black gown she wore, rubbing them to warm up.

Spoiler

While the Academy was mostly subterranean, she couldn't tell if the chill was due to the underground conditions or the heavy presence of the dark side of the Force.

[member="Kyros Fen"]

 

[Briah Song]

Ripe was the scent on the air, the quiet Korriban breeze rushing through the academy's many corridors, that screamed a thousand silent times, placid and engulfing, tranquil yet invisibly abrasive to the soul in equal measure, as a pin slowly entering numb flesh; one can feel it, but there is no surety. Such cold warmth comforted Acolyte Kyros Fen, whose blood right was this planet. For Korriban was in the Pureblood's veins and the more time he spent upon it, he found himself growing ever closer to it, his roots sinking deeper towards its dark core. The land from which he came would now become the land from which he shall grow.

Yet these invaders, these aliens, these pretenders were everywhere he walked, around every corner, lurking in every shadow. He could tell they resented him, envious of his lineage to this place, and he, in turn, detested them all. Even the most powerful and revered, such as the Togruta Lord and the countless humans of merit who infested the place like the rest, including his own master Tirdarius, still caused him much sourness regardless of the respect he had for their power. Power will only take oneself so far, he had thought, but blood and birthright will always determine, in the end.

Dark, crimson eyes scanned along as the acolyte moved through the endless corridors leading to rooms for various purposes; training dojos, dormitories, torture chambers. Though much had been seen already, there was always more to discover in the labyrinthine complex of the underground Sith temple, for its original incarnation was founded by lords of ancient Sith Korriban. Today, it retained much of its unique and complex design and masonry from such ancient times. Silently, Kyros, clad in armless, dark-brown leather armour and equipped with a simple vibroblade, swept along the old hallways, through to the wide main hall of the temple.

In his mind were ideas and ambitions to seek and bring down a mighty terentatek beyond the immediate geographical sphere of influence that surrounded temple's local area. As he gathered the necessary resources for his first lightsaber, he sought to treat such a hunt as a trial of initiation, using the tooth of a terentatek as a basis for his hilt. As his master attended other duties, he would serve his own time well with such an expedition. He scanned the immediate area to see weak pretenders everywhere, milling around without purpose, awaiting their masters for instruction or some high ranked individual to lick the boots of. Servants, all of them.

[member="Bellatrix Celvina"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Bellatrix walked along the winding corridors, but she had no fething idea where she was going and neither did the Nautolan guards at her heel. The way they pressed in on her, and even their boot steps echoing on the stone floor caused ripples of irritation through her being. Finally she whirled around and said, "Look, I cannot concentrate with you two so close. Can you please wait outside the entrance? The Academy is for Sith only anyway." The Nautolans gave each other cautious glances, but her ruse worked, and they slowly set back off from which they came.

Free at last, thought Bellatrix. At least for a little while. She would carry out this errand in her own sweet time. She needed to find a Sith Lord named Darth Phokus, a tall Massassi headmaster who resided somewhere within the bowels of the Academy. She was to retrieve alchemy ingredients for Darth Pyrrhus, elements such as flower petals, red Korriban sand, and the maker only knew what else. The half-Chiss had a list on her datapad, but it wasn't worth checking.

As she quickly rounded a corner, she saw a red-skinned individual. Could that be Darth Phokus? At first she thought, yes, but then upon further inspection she realized the man was a pure-blood Sith, similiar to the Massassi race but without the characteristic yellow eyes and vaguely simian features. But she nearly bumped into him, so closely that she brushed his arm. Bellatrix knew that the Academy was home to both powerful Sith and equally disposable Acolytes. Better to be safe than sorry, she mused.

"Pardon me," she said, giving the Sith a respectful nod. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

But perhaps he did know where she should go? "I am looking for Darth Phokus, one of the headmasters of the Academy. Do you know where I can find him?"

[member="Kyros Fen"]

 

[Briah Song]

"You ought to, you know," Kyros said under his breath as the alien fell into him. "Watch yourself, that is. There is no telling who you may offend." He took a moment to look at her, his deep red eyes scanning her up and down once. Her blue skin indicated Chiss origins, but some of her features suggested more. A hybrid, then. Kyros scowled slightly, for simply the idea of a hybrid made him nauseous. He was pure and of the oldest of bloodlines, and he was proud of such a fact, and none of the false, idiotic claims of any bastardisation of his own line would hide the truth he knew himself.

Phokus. He had heard of such a man before, and that he was such a bastardisation, a lesser descendent of his own species, yet more deserving of power and authority than some of the other pretenders who frolicked upon his home world.
"I do not know where he is, and I'm not sure I would help you if I did. What are you, exactly?"

[member="Bellatrix Celvina"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Bellatrix arched a dark eyebrow as he warned her about offending a denizen of the Academy. She knew that just her mere presence could, at times, provoke a negative response. She was a hybrid species and a slave. Her Acolyte status helped with nothing quite frankly. The half-Chiss was considered a lesser being by some, although she had not put two and two together with the pure blood Sith who stood before her. She hadn’t encountered many at all llike him in her young life. But as though rejecting all of this and answering his question just the same, she let her antennapalps extend out from the crown of her head, twitching much like the red-skinned man’s chin tentacles did. The antennapalps would allow her to detect subtle emotion from the individual in front of her – especially any sudden shift that would preface a hostile act.

“I’m half Balosar and half Chiss,” Bellatrix said, her orange gaze meeting his red one. Her eyes flickered over his strong features and pronounced cheekbones. The alien was striking, a radiant crimson color. Even the chin tentacles had a masculine shape to them. “My name is Acolyte Celvina. My Master is Darth Pyrrhus, Voice of the Dark Lord. I am here to retrieve alchemy ingredients from Darth Phokus.”

At this point, she needed to invoke the name of her Sith Lord tutor as she had no idea who she’d bumped into and just how powerful he was. Within the shrewd and unscrupulous ranks of the Sith, name-dropping could be just as effective in blocking a social faux pas as Shien was against blaster bolts. “And My Lord, you are…?”

Bella asked his name in a slightly sycophantic way to fool him, but she could tell by his Force signature, he was no Sith Lord. He was an early Knight at best.

[member="Kyros Fen"]

 

[Briah Song]

Kyros maintained a heavy silence a while as he gauged the hybrid's response. An errand girl, if she spoke the truth of her purpose on Korriban. The Acolyte did not care either way, for to him this blue-skinned being was lesser to him. Truthfully, she was an Acolyte such as he, but she did not posses the right blood, and she as a result she would always be weak. If he had any ounce of respect for these types of creatures, he would lament such weakness, but potential for such respect was lost years ago.

"Kyros Fen, but that title suits fine." He would not tell her of his actual rank. It was not important, and maintaining her ignorance of such would only serve to give him the upper hand, for this one was lesser. However, such thoughts of the girl gave him an idea. He would be in need of assistance in his quest, a 'thrall' of kinds to aid in his hunt. Whether she would survive or not did not matter, as long as there was someone there to take the damage he could avoid.
"It appears your Darth Phokus is absent, then. Why don't you, instead, come with me and hunt a terentatek? It could provide you with considerable renown and respect amongst your peers and your masters."

[member="Bellatrix Celvina"]