Location: Heading towards Korriban Academy/Church of Ashla
"
Ideas Forgotten, you are cleared for landing pad Two-Niner. Ashla guide you."
"
Received, Ashla guide you."
Anthysius furrowed his brow as he returned the customary greeting. Ashlan piety was, frankly, quite revolting to one such as he, combining subservience, conformity and trust in the weakness of the Light into a single stew.
But appearances need must be kept.
As he guided the shuttle into the pad, he activated the automated landing sequence before exiting the cockpit, making sure he looked the part of Griff Tordana, "professional collector". Anthysius pulled over a worn duster, its browns faded into grey, and scooped up the tramp freighter pilot helmet he'd left on the bunk.
A small jolt in the ship alerted him to its landing, and he made his way to the exit ramp.
"
They are attempting to board us," Argus called from the side of the passenger hold. A tall man covered from head-to-toe in cybernetics, he stood almost as still as a statue while he monitored the exterior cameras from a panel on the wall. "
Shall I activate countermeasures."
"
It's just a routine inspection," Issan sighed from the other side of the hold. Like her lord, she was paying close attention to her appearances, tying her hair up in a slack ponytail and picking a worn, wide-brimmed hat to suit her jacket and boots. To keep up Anthysius' cover identities over the years, these two retainers had much experience in adjusting appearances, though clearly one preferred the subterfuge more than the other.
"
Then I will cover my iron." Argus knew that his extensive cybernetics frequently drew attention and suspicion, and thus, in order to serve his master's wishes, he knew when to cover them up in black robes.
"
Very good. This should not take too long. I do not wish to be late to the pickup point."
Anthysius strode over to the exit ramp and hit the switch. The familiar hateful air of Korriban washed into the hold as he stepped out to greet the docking attendants.
"
Howdy, officers! You'll see everything's in order. Try not to damage anything, eh?"
While Argus waited on the ship, Anthysius- now Griff- led Issan past the spaceport and out onto the open dust plains of Korriban. Walking for an hour, Anthysius pondered the spaceport and the buildings that now dotted some of the old valley roads. Heknew that most other Sith would recoil at the changes wrought on the Death Womb of the Sith, but he could not be bothered to care much. Korriban was always the most tedious are dreadful of the Sith academy worlds. A twisted sense of meritocracy meant that the planet and its prestigious academy was always overflowing with riff-raff clawing at each other and braying for the chance to be noticed and accepted as Sith, a sordid tradition stretching back to Vitiate's Empire.
Anthysius heard Issan scoff aloud as they passed an old Sith outpost built into the side of a valley wall, its edifice demolished and covered in cris-crossing scaffolding. Of course, she did have some affection for the place, as one of those raised from the rabble into the hallowed ranks of the Sith Order. At least her kind gave Anthysius the respect he was due. The Stygian nobles, those were always the worst. Korriban's elite were by far the most obnoxious, though why they were proud to be inheritors of the most secure Sith possession was beyond-
"
M'lord." Anthysius focussed ahead of him. He didn't need to be told, for he felt an emanation from the Force dead ahead. Down this dusty, dirt road leading into nowhere was a single speeder, idling several hundred metres away from the pair. Several figures waited around it, and Anthysius spotted a cargo crate loaded onto the speeder. The emanations must be from there. This was definitely the meeting point.
"
Stay sharp."
The pair walked to within earshot of the group.
"
Ho there, friends! It's a lovely day to be out and about on shiny Moraband, eh?"
The leader of the group, a Gran dressed in armour that must have passed for "Stromtrooper-chic", strode up to the pair.
"Cut the noise. You Griff?"
"
Well, an old birdie told me to meet someone who-"
"Yeah it's you. You here for the junk?"
Anthysius paused for a beat to keep his emotion at baseline.
"
Junk? Don't tell me you manhandled a priceless beaut-"
"Yeah yeah whatever. It's all Sith junk these days, otherwise, the Ashers would've gotten their mitts on it," he paused for a beat, turning his head to the left and spitting onto the baking sand. "No offense, buddy."
Anthysius looked to the Gran's left. A hooded figure. It nodded, and Anthysius almost gasped as the sunlight revealed crimson cheek tendrils in that motion. Sith pureblood. Highly unusual. What was someone like that doing with this gang of tomb robbers?
He's after the artifacts.
"
Well, I would like to see it nonetheless. And I would appreciate if you didn't cut me off-"
"We don't have the
merchandise, fella."
Anthysius blinked.
"
What?"
"Said we don't have it. Turns out the stuff you want was moved to the old Academy, which in turn is, as you no doubt know, stuffed under the folds of the Church."
Anthysius breathed slowly. The Pureblood seemed to sense his anger and stood up slightly straighter.
"
So you have nothing. You brought me out here for nothing."
"Well here's the thing: it's your lucky day, because we don't have nothing. We have many a thing." Another of the Gran's followers, a Zabrak female, whistled, and the other two humans, probably low-ranking grunts, hauled the box off the speeder and dumped it on the ground, sending sand flying. A crowbar appeared in the Zabrak's hands, and she popped the top off the crate. As the Gran dug through the pile of items to display, Anthysius felt his annoyance and anger build.
"We did hit a good haul: ancient saber hilts, old parchment -perfectly preserved of course-, holocron fragments, even got an ancient power cell, Second Old Period, very good price. And many tomb masks, a piece of terentatek chitin-"
"
Trash. It's all trash. You scum."
The Force emanations were not from the crate, Anthysius knew now. It was from the Pureblood. An uncomfortable silence stretched on as Anthysius glowered at the Gran, who nonchalantly chucked some trinket back into the box. A ripple of movement under the Pureblood's robes. Issan shifted her stance.
"I take it you don't think this is worth the payment."
"
No."
"Well, that's rough, because... we might have a problem."
"
You've not offered me the item I paid you for, and nothing worth a fraction of the price you so insolently demand, cur."
Anthysius could feel his rage building inside him, roiling off him almost like a wave. The Pureblood was definitely shifting uncomfortably. He knew.
"Look, I'll sweeten the deal. Information, for free. The artifact you want? It's in the 3rd archive level of the Church, Unit 472A. Just a freebie, okay, to go with these other artifacts to compensate-"
"
You call these artifacts? That, my friend, is junk. Trash, debris, copies of copies of noth-"
"Now just simmer down-"
A blaster flashed out from under clothing, sharp movement. The crack of a blaster bolt, and the snap-hiss of a lightsaber on unsacred ground. Everything halted, even the wind, as the Gran slumped onto his knees, a gaping hole in his evidently useless chest armour. An infinitesimal infinity passed as he collapsed, face-first, into the sand, the red glow of Issan's lightsaber seeming to outshine the glowing sun.
"
I told you not to interrupt me."
The Pureblood, whose blaster had fired the fatal, reflected, shot, roared as he fired again and again at Issan, foolishly ignoring her master. Before the other three ruffians could draw their blasters, Anthysius drew his sidearm and felled the two humans with a single burst. The Zabrak drew her weapon, a slug thrower shotgun, and fired.
Anthysius lifted his other hand and unleashed his anger into a solid wall of energy. The pellets stopped, then flew back towards the Pureblood and the Zabrak. The former seemed to disappear for a moment, so fast was his dodge, while the latter fell backward as pellets impacted her skin. Advancing as one, Anthysius drew his own lightsaber as he and Issan closed the gap with the enemy in the space of a heartbeat, lightsabers flashing.
The Zabrak fell, almost bisected at the waist, while the Pureblood lasted a smidge longer, parrying Issan's lightsaber with a vibroblade while she ignited her second lightsaber into his guts. His blade fell from his fingers as Issan drew back her weapons, the Pureblood's corpse falling with a wet thud. The entire fight had lasted just under thirteen seconds.
Issan pulled a loose strand of hair from her eyes, licking her lips.
"
Sorry, milord. I really needed that. At least he told us where to find your father's armour."
"
He had it coming. We head for the academy," Anthysius ordered, gunning the speeder's engine as Issan rifled through the pockets of the dead smugglers for useful items.
"
Just in case they have any other information that might lead to the heirloom, sire."
Anthysius grunted.
"The crate?"
"
Leave it."
Issan hopped into the speeder, several datadisks in hand, nodding. The pair sped off towards the academy, and the desert was silent again.
When the speeder ran out of power, they were still several hours away from the academy, but only a minute from a shuttle station, its clean and gilded lines standing in stark contrast with Korriban's dire surroundings. The pair ditched the speeder, making sure not to leave any evidence. They flashed the transport cards they'd picked from the corpses of the smugglers and entered the stuffy, marginally air-conditioned interior of the shuttle.
As they pushed their way past the crowded exit (
why do they always stand by the exit if they're not exiting) Anthysius stiffened. He sensed another Sith.
"
Over there." Issan pointed. Anthysius picked the person out of the crowd almost immediately. Even if he was not Sith, it would have been obvious that
Alina Tremiru
stood out from the crowd: large shades, long white hair, and a perfectly preserved Sangnir physique in almost overly casual clothes that contrasted with the average dour Ashlan on Korriban. What was she doing here?
"
She might have a way into the Church, something we, unfortunately, lack at the moment." In his mind, Anthysius cursed again the smuggler that failed to retrieve the heirloom. Even if the Sangnir did not help him, he could probably find another way into the Church.
They shuffled through the press of bodies on the shuttle and stood beside the other Sith.
"
My lady. Fancy seeing you around these parts."
Darth Razarač
