Senzteku'ija

[Darth Carnifex]

​

The clouds were overcast as the shuttle descended through them, obscuring the small red sun from hatefully casting its anger down upon the scorched barren landscape. All that spread out before their cockpit viewport was endless wastes, red and brown rock surrounded by oceans of sand. Though they had seen large bodies of water from space, none of that existed even close to where he had chosen to touch down.

All that rose to greet them as they descended was a single outpost raised on a plateau of uneven stone, its walls carved from the same material and built in accordance with ancient military design. High walls, studded with parapets and high towers, surrounded the settlement on all sides. The only entrance was a steep stair that led up the vertical cliff face to a small gate that wasn't wide enough for any vehicle; regardless of its technological state. There wasn't even a spaceport for them to touch down on, rather they were forced to land somewhere on the outskirts and make the rest of the journey on foot.

Landing gear extended to take the brunt of the force from landing on such unsound terrain, a shudder running through the ship as they did. Hydraulic pistons hissed pressurized air as the boarding ramp lowered to the sandy ground, two figures emerging from the gloom. Both were cloaked in robes of black, red, and gold. One was vastly taller than the other, built more like a warrior. The smaller was more lithe and quick, a catspaw.

"It has been many moons since I last stepped foot on this world, apprentice." spoke the tall one, his voice a rumbling baritone laden with authority and pride. He cast a cowled glance down at the smaller one, "Do you know what planet this is?"

[member="Vixen Ryder"]​

 

[Darth Morrow]

The woman glanced across the space before them, her streaks of brown hair slipping out the edges of the robe hood as the rarely occurring dry breeze pressed some sand like a solid wall across the landscape. Some time had passed since her last journey with feet down on the ground, for months she had herself locked away in the libraries or training areas of her masters creation. She was honing her weak body as much as possible, mind as well all things considered though that wasn't restricted to form.

Pressing the hair back and pulling it up to avoid another stray to the face, Ryder glanced over to Carnifex briefly before gathering her answer. "I would say yes, however I only have a general idea. Clearly a desert planet which narrows down to a few dozen. Red sun, narrows it down to about a dozen." Pausing she'd look at the settlements about and the singular large outpost looming over them all. "Disgustingly dry and void of any water."

"I have no idea out of those dozen however. Perhaps if I saw the residents of this miserable planet I'd have an update for you." The woman flicked back her hood to show the multicolored streaked hair from lack of dye or care on appearance, her pale whitish blue near yellowing eyes settled on her master once more.

"Care to share yet the purpose of this expedition and dragging me so far?"

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"All in due time, apprentice. Answers readily given are worth very little."

The Dark Lord turned and began his lonk trek up the steps chiseled into the steep cliff face, his towering stature and long gait aiding his rise by taking multiple steps at a time. He remained unexhausted once he reached the apex of the steps, the supernatural endurance of the Force allowing him to undertake the challenge without breaking a sweat.

His apprentice?

No doubt finding such a journey more difficult for her than for her master.

Regardless, as both neared the gargantuan carved stone doors of the walled city a pair of bronze-enamored guards emerged from a side-passage set in the cliff face. Both were wielding vibro-weaponry, more ornamental than practical. A thick plumage of soot-stained features crested both of their visorless helmets.

"Stumlekeai kuris Virmse Miestas Gallia?" The guard's Sith dialect was harsh, yet distinct from the more ancient dialects found in the Stygian Caldera. Undoubtedly a bastard strain of the language that had fermented on this world for generations.

"Ilsia buti Nu, Sith'ari."

The guards physically recoiled, their orange-tinted eyes widened in both surprise in horror. Half an instant passed after their initial shock, followed quickly by both guards falling to their knees and prostrating themselves before the Dark Lord of the Sith. Eager words of prayer bubbled forth from their lips, but ultimately they fell on deaf ears.

"Dotacij mus miestas ana."

Easy to acquiesce, the guards rose and shouted a string of gutturals up towards a cunningly concealed murder hole positioned just above the stone door's entry. After a couple of seconds the stone doors began to recede into the stone floor, pulled down by giant chained mechanisms of a bygone age; only maintained by their ancient creator's still-living descendants.

The Dark Lord turned to his apprentice as he began to walk forward into the city and spoke in the Basic tongue, "Welcome to the holy city of Gallia."

[member="Vixen Ryder"]​

 

[Darth Morrow]

Being denied an answer only made the walk more miserable. In truth it wasn't that horrid as to how long she had been endurance training, though that many steps takes a toll on any body natural no matter how fit.

Climbing to the top behind her master she took a moment to gather herself while covering said exhaustion rather well. As Ryder composed herself and brushed off some loose flying dirt she glanced to the guards standing in the way of her master before following behind quietly.

At the moment they asked who approached Ryder near coughed a lung out from astonishment. "Votvtebi kair zenoti nenx kuris j'us buti, Meistras." She chuckled to herself through the backhanded remark before letting them finish and the gates opening before them.

"The city is quite impressive, though I'd still like to know why we have come. Perhaps skip all the niceties? I know you dislike them anyways, so lets get to the point."

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"You are learning well, apprentice."

Again, the Emperor deigned not the answer her questions as they moved through the city. All around them were the inhabitants of Gallia, individuals who possessed a distinct modicum of Pureblood genes inside of their DNA. Though only a minute, it was enough to gift them with subdued crimson hues of skin pigmentation, vibrant yellow eyes, and slightly elongated skulls. They all wore sufficient garments that could stave off the arctic chill that occasionally swept down from the monolithic mountains which bordered the plateau on which the city rested. Suspicious eyes were cast in their direction, voices reaching a hushed whisper as the Dark Lord and his pupil passed through the crowded bazaar; a temple of religious significance looming ahead of them.

"We are on Prakith in the Deep Core. Before my tenure as Emperor this world was a sacred Sith shrine, ruled by a Dark Lord known as Darth Sortis. Sortis ruled the Sith from the shadows for centuries, separate from the first iteration of Sith to form at the end of the Four Hundred Year Darkness. He did not join his strength with those who ruled from Dromund Kaas, not until the Republic had torn out the heart of the Empire and broke its hold on the Tingel Arm. Then he used his powers of prophecy and persuasion to draw the survivors onto him, launching calculated strikes from Prakith at the Galactic Republic from within. For nine years this world was as holy to the Sith as Korriban."

They reached the base of the steps leading up towards the temple ziggurat, the Dark Lord stopping and turning to his apprentice. "But in the years since it has fallen from glory, reduced to a war-scarred waste. But there is yet power here, you may sense it when you properly attune yourself."

[member="Vixen Ryder"]​