Private Something Wicked Lurks Here

[Darth Bellum]

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| Location | Forgotten Temple, Korriban​

| Purpose | ???​

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Korriban. Home of the Sith, and now little more than a mausoleum of the lost and forgotten. Its sands stirred as if disturbed by an unseen presence, shifting and spiraling as the shadows cast by towering temples and statues seemed to come alive and flicker like dark flames, reaching for a singular point. The hot, arid atmosphere seemed to grow heavy and cold as the air shimmered and refracted light, only to shatter like glass as a maw of shadows split open. Tendrils of darkness slithered out, trying to escape the threshold that bound them to Otherspace, only to be pulled back as a large, hulking figure stepped out.​

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Darth Bellum's decrepit form found itself on Korriban once more. It had been decades since the Dark Side spirit set foot on its burning sands, while he was still alive and walked amongst the living. The nature of his visit was an enigma known only to him, for no one could ever divine his intentions despite his simple motivations. With the rise of the Galactic Empire, Bellum's insatiable thirst for conflict had returned. He had already set the path for Darth Voyance to be found - and now he found himself drawn to Korriban for another relic of a bygone era.​

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The Lord of War strode through the sands, finding himself drawn to a familiar presence. The resurrected Sith paused before a large tomb, a skeletal hand waving over the stone walls as he felt an unseen barrier preventing him from making contact with the ancient stone. A subtle thrum filled the air, dust shaking from crevices in the stone to reveal runes that had been carved into its surface - a countermeasure to keep unwanted individuals out of tombs; or perhaps to keep something locked within.​

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But he did not come for a corpse. What lay within still stirred. Something akin to nostalgia surfaced within the Lord of War's mind - a flash of his youth, a life long since forgotten. He too had been locked away because those weaker than him feared what he was capable of. His lamentations were interrupted as a Sith Order patrol had taken notice of his presence, a trio of soldiers accompanied by a Mon Calamari dressed in black robes. ​

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The Sith stood silently as he was surrounded by the soldiers with blasters trained on him, "Identify yourse-Hurk" The officer's voice was cut off as a skeletal hand raised from Bellum's tattered garments, his index finger curling as the soldiers reached for their chests, dropping their weapons. What felt like iron wrapped around their hearts, unseen hands tightening as their pulses quickened before feeling them get crushed. Blood splattered the insides of their helmets as they fell forward dead, the Lord of War turning to the Mon Calamari - a sorcerer by the looks of it, preparing himself for a fight he thought he would be Bellum's match for.​

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It wasn't long before a half-unconscious Mon Calamari was beaten within an inch of their life, the Lord of War gripping them by the back of their skull as he forced them against the unseen barrier, wheezing for mercy as their blood seeped into the ancient stone. The carved runes glowed and hummed as the barrier faded, dust shifted as hidden mechanisms pulled the massive slabs away to reveal the dark path into the temple, the Lord of War dragging the bloodied Mon Calamari like a sack of potatoes along with him. ​

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Darth Maleva
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[Darth Maleva]

Cobb webs, intricately woven between a body and the wall, fell to dust as the head that held them snapped forward. Empty eternities oft bred delusion - but the rumbling that had taken to the corridors ahead seemed more than a mad woman's reverie. It was different, this time. Real. Stagnant air shifted with Maleva's movements as she stepped down from the niche carved for her final resting place.

Wild eyes swept the nearly pitch room. Everything was as she'd left it before her dreaming - eight mummified corpses, one who still breathed but was locked in the perpetual statis she had freed herself from. Bones of rodents littered the floor. Amongst them lay a glowing blade. The sith lord crouched to collect it, every movement stiff and awkward. Ruby light fell to her side, revealing a form clothed in molding fabric. The backlit form started forward, up the stairs of her crypt, to see who had stirred her from slumber.

The incline gave way to a long corridor, with statues of their history lining either side. Two figures at the end drew her attention. Vague memories of one presence chewed at her mind. Hunger was a more demanding thing. The spirit was a vacant space in the song of life, but oh, how his captive sang to her. The sweet sound almost hurt. Proboscis slithered forth and danced about the air. Before she had realized, Maleva was upon them, a blur who had crossed the length of the hall in sheer desperation. The hunt was all but impossible to stop - yet the same malice that had sustained her all these years offered the smallest ounce of control, stopping her mere feet from the interlopers.

Raising her blade, crimson light pulsed beneath her command, a burning gaze flickered between the pair, before Maleva forced it to settle on the skull. Recognition finally bypassed the haze to make a whole out of pieces. Death had finally come for her after all these years.

"I expected a raider, come to plunder." Maleva rasped, throat dry as the dunes beyond the walls. "Instead, I find an aspect of war."

This was no action of mercy. As was the way, there would be a price.

"Does the galaxy bleed again?"

 

[Darth Bellum]

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| Location | Forgotten Temple, Korriban​

| Purpose | ???​

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Moans echoed through the temple as the Mon Calamari being dragged along the ground struggled and grasped at Bellum's hand, blood trickling and leaving a crimson trail. Pleas of mercy and forgiveness. How disgusting and pitiful the Sith were becoming once more. The hulking silhouette of the resurrected Sith paused, contemplating delivering a slow, painful death, but that would ruin his gift. His hollow eyes became transfixed on the activation of a crimson blade in the dark. Ravenous hunger radiated off the figure's form, almost palpable to the Lord of War as Maleva appeared before him.​

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His slackened jaw widened as a myriad of voices overlapped one another, a horrible mixture of whispers, screams, and cries coalesced into a rasping voice to answer her query. "The Galaxy rots..."​

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A commlink on the Mon Calamari's belt crackled, static bursts punctuating the silence of the crypt, "Repo- krrrrrk. Confirm perimeter breac- krrrk" The lack of a response was likely to draw attraction and bring more unfortunate victims to them. Good, more sustenance for his peer and an opportunity for her to display her edge had not been dulled by time. ​

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Bellum raised his arm up, gripping the Mon Calamari by the back of their skull, feet dangling off the ground, too weak to fight back and struggle - not that they could, considering most of the bones in their body had been shattered.​

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He offered the live meal to Maleva, knowing how ravenous they must be having been trapped in their tomb. And with it, she had been offered her freedom. "I have need for wolves once more, so I offer you this chance to make yourself worthy of becoming one..." He paused as he continued to dangle the Mon Calamari off to the ground, "Or you can join me in my Sea of Memories." ​

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The latter choice came as a threat. In true Sith fashion, he offered a choice: serve his cause or die. But he did not ask for obedience or fealty to him, merely to the cycle in which his existence was inextricably bound to perpetuate. Or the Sith before him could always attempt to take his life if she believed she could best him in her present state.​

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Darth Maleva
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