Mustafar’s lakes of lava glowed in menacing orange and yellow, the mere sight scaring away anyone who visited the volcanic planet, the same place where the famous duel between Darth Vader and his former teacher had taken place centuries ago. The planet’s twisted nature had unknowingly shaped the image of terror and fear Darth Vader would become, burning his broken form to be equally twisted and earning the man an artificial respiration system. There was no duel right now though, just a signal being broadcasted.
With extreme temperatures and unbearable heat radiating from the very earth their boots treaded upon came the usual discomfort and difficulties for the amphibious Sith who had joined the Covenant’s activities; the very Mon Calamari who had survived the treacherous nature of Korriban, living through Zarrah’s unforgiving training as well, only to victoriously emerge as a true Sith. Unlike the miserable weaklings who have been suckled on the foolish teachings of the One Sith, Avreet remained firmly in control of his own body and mind, refusing to reduce himself into nothing but a mindless puppet of the Dark Side and primitive urges.
Setting all discomfort aside, the Sith Assassin turned his large head towards the very reason he came to the planet; [member="Darth Zarrah"], the greatest Sith of all time, the very embodiment of perfection. As her Hand, her Champion, Darth Veles had to ensure the woman’s safety, protect her from those who wished to steal the Sith Lady’s secrets. There was little doubt the Togruta could take care of herself, her immense power more than enough to vanquish anyone foolish enough to challenge her, but Avreet still felt tingles of worry at her rare interactions with members of the One Sith.
Hot air immediately surrounded the pair as they left their shared Phasma-class Infiltrator – which Veles had piloted himself, not trusting One Sith pilots – and embarked on their journey full of danger. The Mon Cal silently paced by the Togruta’s right side, their strides perfectly coordinated and letting everyone know they were dealing with master and her old student. Avreet’s cloak remained tightly wrapped around his body, leaving the curved twin hilts dangling from his belt concealed, yet ready to send clear message to anyone who even thought about striking the red skinned Togruta.
“It is good to be by your side again, Grima,” the amphibian admitted in his soothing and thick-accented voice of an Imperial, momentarily overwhelmed by nostalgia with memories of their adventures coming back to him, “Have you discovered the secret of immortality, my lady? Because I swear you look more beautiful every time we meet!”
Everyone liked a compliment, and Darth Veles actually meant his words, however honeyed they were. Darth Zarrah looked great, something Veles attributed to the woman’s healthy lifestyle consisting of vitamins, diets, and rigorous exercises to keep herself fit. She might have been in her early fifties, but she was still more strong and agile than the vast majority of One Sith infidels.
The source of the Black Rose’s signal originated nearby, and as soon as their eyes spotted the shuttle, they saw a dark figure of [member="Darth Venefica"] nearby as well. Avreet’s amber gaze almost wanted to burn the woman just as the lava would – she was a Voice of the Dark Lord, after all, one of the psychopaths ruling the One Sith in place of the non-existent emperor.
“Hail and well-met, lady Venefica,” the Sith commented in a welcome upon their approach, reaching for the hood of his cloak and pushing it down from his head, gaze suddenly parting from the Vahla and searching around before returning to Venefica, reflections of fire dancing within the eyes, “May I know what kind of treasure awaits the Covenant?”
His voice remained calm, kind, tone polite as always.
[member="Bundori "][member="Darth Invidia"]
