Private The Korriban Heist

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

To think it was here.

He had been here just days ago.

He had been here just a year before that.

Malum grasped the amulet around his neck with the severity of a desperate man and the faith of a pious man.

Its warmth was his hope, its heat was his truth.

Malum trudged along the sand of Korriban, a cloak around his body as he battled the sand and wind that pressed across him like tiny molecules of glass. He had felt many a cut emerge, but he kept marching forth, allowing the sweltering heat of the planet's sun to dry out the wound, letting the sand cover it like some makeshift bandage.

He could only rely on himself, the others had all but abandoned him, could he blame them? No, not rationally, but his emotional mind, left to stew as he marched on, blamed and hated. It was through pure spite that he kept on going.

The raid on Dromund Kaas had been a mistake, there had been more resistance than he had anticipated, more enemies than he had expected, and better-trained and experienced enemies than he had imagined. He had looked down on the fools of the light, the Ashlan Crusade, and the Empire, and it had cost them all dearly. He had been a fool to think them weak, to think them fools, these were the foes that had brought down the Sith Empire, why would they not be strong?

They had all lived, thankfully.

But no Holocron, no great riches.

None had believed his vision of Korriban, not even Trayze.

They had parted ways after the retreat from Dromund Kaas, he, was unable to convince any of them to go on, all of them returning to Sith space, while he...

Well, he would continue, he had the vision from Darth Marr, the warmth of his amulet, the ashes moving about as if they were alive, the only truth that mattered to him.

The Holocorn was here, it had to be.

If not... he would certainly die here.

"You are not here to die, Malum." The voice at Fiviune, the voice that spoke to him at Dromund Kaas, the voice he had heard speak to him when he first felt the ashes. The voice that he longed to hear for so long, the voice that gave him the strength to keep trudging onward. Enough for his concealed eyes to make out the looming statues up ahead, the entrance of the Valley of the Sith Lords.

He was home.

He was home, and the invaders that took his home were not present.

He had noticed the lack of the Crusaders, he had heard rumours that something had gone wrong.

Though of course, the lack of the Crusaders did not mean he was entirely alone.

His lightsaber ignited against the sandy wind, as he saw a figure ahead of him, as he felt the amulet begin to burn his skin.

He offered what could only be a maniac smile.

He was so close, there was only one person in the way now.

Sofiel

 

[Sofiel]

The black bird descended from above. Korriban, despite the Ashlan's attempts, was a planet still full of death. Too barren for life to survive, any sign of a creature was often a sign of a predator looking to make a meal. And yet it's large form seemed to shrink as it landed atop the shoulder of the woman standing in the way. Her yellow Sith eyes remained on the sky above, scanning through the clouds.

Always looking to the stars above.

"You have a grand purpose for being here, don't you?"

Her gaze lowered. Sofiel turned to face Malum, hands calmly behind her back. A warm smile that could have been friendly if not for the coldness in her eyes.

"What is it?"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT OBJECTIVE - SECURE PERSON(S)
BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr
OPFOR - ENEMY UNKNOWN
TARGETING ACTIONS - Darth Malum of House Marr & Sofiel

---

Why did he have to be related to him?

It was a question Trayze had asked himself multiple times during this...excursion. From the disaster at Dromuund Kaas to here, and even beforehand with all the small acts that made Malum, his cousin, him. Most of the time this question was meant in bemused jest. This was not one of them.

He knew it was a fool's errand, he had been one to urge safe and secure withdrawal from Crusader space, yet here he stayed, slinking behind Malum like an unwanted shadow. "Why in th' karkin' stars did Ah hafta share his blood an' braincell." the Kiffar griped, trudging through the sands. Portents, premonitions, prophecy...all had eluded him even though he had devoured most of the basics of Force Sight. His own Psychometry was gnawing at him here and now, for the past was thick and bloody, and the barrenness of Korriban was like a tomb.

He could taste the dry bones of the Sith entombed in his blood, the same blood that Darth Marr had, that many Sith desired, and the whispers of the past cloyed at his instincts like the flailing limbs of those drowning. Bloodshed, death, war, even under the Jedi, this was the legacy of Korriban. "Peace is a Lie" indeed... was that what this was all for? To prove peace, no matter how much one yearned for it, was passionate and called after it, was a lie? That it will always remain a lie?

The truth was dredged out from him in the acidic chuckles of countless specters no doubt leering at his errand; he hated the Sith. He was common born, and his grandfather was cast out for not bearing the "adequate traits" of Darth Marr-the natural deep red eyes that now burned in Trayze's skull. He was a third generation commoner, seeing the Triumvirate from the bottom up, and he had enforced their laws. Trayze hated the Sith, hated their arrogance, their callousness, their carelessness, their ignorance, how often they leap in order to do what they could do, rather than what they ought to do...

Why did he have to be Sith? To be related to Sith?

Those questions would be interrupted when he saw Malum up and ahead, calling after him and catching up to the single minded stubbornness that his cousin posessed. Trayze would have quipped that his own tenacity had rubbed off on him, in comparison to Trayze's newfound love of the theoretical-practical tomes of Sith art, and more privately, this bout of brooding, when he sensed her.

It was like out of a Prex Germaine's "horror expressionism" holoflicks, though the woman before them was far too young to be a crone-despite the ominous black winged familiar perched upon her shoulder. First she gazed at the stars above-the stars still clear in this blasted waste, before asking:

"You have a grand purpose for being here, don't you?"

Her gaze lowered. Sofiel turned to face Malum, hands calmly behind her back. A warm smile that could have been friendly if not for the coldness in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Who are you?!" Trayze joined his cousin in readying his own lightsaber "State yer name an' business!" Not just anyone comes to Korriban, and if he was lucky, he encountered a hopefully monologue heavy Ashlan Crusader. If not...

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum offered a ghost of a smile as Trayze readied up beside him, his lightsaber igniting like his own, a symbol of the two united pillars of the House of Marr. He was incorrect, not all of the party had abandoned him, his ever loyal, his ever accountable, his ever ardent cousin and best friend, who had stood beside him at Dromund Kaas in victory and defeat, who had believed in his visions, and had agreed to continue onto the den of the vipers that was Korriban.

He stood with him now, against this potential foe ahead.

It was as much encouragement, as the boiling heat of the amulet exuded.

"The two heirs of Marr." The voice continued to speak, Malum sensed that underneath its tone, there was some sense of pride peaking through.

His blade did not extinguish, but he kept it on the defensive, as he considered the woman before him. She seemed to be the ethereal sort, landing on his path, with her gaze to the stars, her lips indicating a smile, her eyes apathy. She herself was beautiful, in a mysterious, eerie sort of way, beautiful in a way to make him curious, but in the same sense, have him keep his distance.

Her question made him pause, was it simple curiosity, or was it something more? She certainly seemed to know more than she let on. Was she a friend, or was she foe? She did not look the part of the Ashlan Crusaders that seemingly had abandoned this place, but what did they really look like? Those they had fought at Dromund Kaas had truly surprised him in that aspect, they were far from the complete fools of the Light that he had pictured. Most of them were even gray, others downright dark.

Was she one of them?

The grip on his lightsaber tightened as he pondered the question.

Still, she needed some answer, however vague as it needed to be.

He stepped forward, his mouth opening, still hidden mostly by the cloak and rags he kept around himself, "An heirloom, an artifact, a relic, that belongs to me, and my cousin here, by right of blood, by right of descent." He offered, opening his arms, opening himself in fact, her response would reveal her to be one that may let them pass or one he would force to pass.

Sofiel Trayze Tesar

 

[Sofiel]

"Sofiel. To learn more on the Sith."

She kept a calm smile, even at the hostility shown her way. Perhaps because of it. The Sith truly were some of the most aggressive souls, weren't they? It'd make the deal harder to uphold, but perhaps easier in time as she learned. Perhaps. Her unnatural eyes focused from the one who spoke in threats to the other, who spoke in purpose. And her smile widened. Just a little.

"Interesting. I offer my help, then. Which tomb are we going into?"

Darth Malum of House Marr | Trayze Tesar

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT OBJECTIVE - SECURE PERSON(S)
BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr
OPFOR - ENEMY UNKNOWN
TARGETING ACTION(S) - Darth Malum of House Marr & Sofiel

---

While Malum opened his arms in diplomacy, Trayze kept the tact of remaining vigilant, the sight and aura of his Force leering at the stranger - who dubbed herself Sofiel. Trayze was a man who knew what he did, and what he didn't, and over his tenure, from first arriving on Saijo, to Kal'Shebbol, to here and now, he realized that he knew very few things. Operating with the Sith, even during his limited capacity in Law Enforcement was far, far different than operating within the Sith. His cousin, by pluck or providence, was apprenticed to Darth Ophidia herself-while he languished as a mere Acolyte. On one hand, he was proud, but on another hand, he realized that factionalism, as in any organization, was inevitable. In the Triumvirate, it was almost cornerstone. Ophidia, Empyrean, even Carnifex himself all commanded their subjects and sects of thought. What would happen if he didn't agree or work within the Tsis'Kaar? In a rival faction, or if none of them appealed to him, what then? He knew now that not all Sith were created equal, and not all were even loyal to the Triumvirate, so what was this girl?

Keeping his guard up, he knew that the yellow irises were the telltale sign of someone embracing the Dark Side; embracing it, rather than being born into it as he and Malum had.

"To learn more on the Sith."

These words offered little comfort, for it could be argued that any number of the Sith's enemies would be eager to "learn on the Sith". Muddier still were the waters of her origin, and the fact that though this was the cradle of the Sith, they were still in Ashlan Territory, and their debacle on Dromund Kaas had been hardly been the pinnacle of stealth. But there was one thing that the Sith relied on, above all other lies of seeming peace, is that there was only Passion. To note the tumult of emotions felt by Trayze as he trudged through the homeworld of all Sith, and to use them as fuel, as fury, as fire.

"Interesting. I offer my help, then. Which tomb are we going into?"

While Malum had revealed their intent, their lineage, and their legacy, Trayze would instead reveal that fire. Not a blustering bawl of most irritable Sith, but one tempered in discipline outside of the Academies and petty rivalries that dominated the Triumvirate. Malum Marr was his cousin and charge, and none would come to harm him as long as Trayze Tesar drew breath. "What of you, Miss Sofiel?" the Kiffar countered "You say you seek ta' learn of the Sith...learn what, and fer what purpose?"

This would reveal, in the silent and unseen battle of wills between Acolyte and interloper, whether she would be dead or deemed a friend.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Darth-" Malum stopped immediately as Trayze stepped in front of him, Malum instinctively took a step back, allowing Trayze to momentarily take lead without any hesitation in his mind. Indeed the ravenousness and the desperation gave away, the facade of needing to take charge giving way to hints of annoyance at himself, he had been so determined to make her pass through the fastest means that he was actively throwing all the cards he had onto the sand, giving up his leverage in every word in an effort to appease the woman and make her pass.

Once again he found himself mentally thanking the fact Trayze was here when all others had abandoned him.

He would certainly need to make it up to him after all this was over. Malum had dragged him here, for utterly his own ambition, and though the Holocron would be theirs, their birthright, both heirs of the great Darth Marr, Malum was the heir, the Holocron was to be held by him.

He only hoped that Trayze would be content with that.

He really did not want to move against his cousin.

Against... his best friend.

His eyes traveled to look to the introduced Sofiel, signaling he would say no more until his cousin's questions were answered.

Sofiel Trayze Tesar

 

[Sofiel]

"What of you, Miss Sofiel?" the Kiffar countered "You say you seek ta' learn of the Sith...learn what, and fer what purpose?"

"Everything. What makes a Sith, your history, your knowledge. I want to learn everything. All so I can ensure your survival and growth."

She spoke in a level, calm tone, her yellow eyes glancing between the two. Hands clasped behind her back. Her smile warm, but her gaze cold. Emotionless and judging. She turned her eyes to look around them once more, nodding towards one tomb in particular.

"Your dead burry themselves in traps, for example. You hoard your knowledge, keep your descendants from learning. Or perhaps, to ensure their worth? It's fascinating. Even dead and gone, your betters ensure you must become better than them."

Trayze Tesar | Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT OBJECTIVE - ESCORT
PERSON(S)
BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr & Sofiel
OPFOR - ENEMY UNKNOWN
TARGETING ACTION(S) - Darth Malum of House Marr & Sofiel

---

This...was about as good an answer as Trayze was going to get in this day and age. Bloody cryptic Force Users...

"[...] You hoard your knowledge, keep your descendants from learning. Or perhaps, to ensure their worth? It's fascinating. Even dead and gone, your betters ensure you must become better than them."

Trayze wanted to believe the latter, but his jaded cynicism felt the former. Perhaps because he entered into the Sith at a late age in his life, and he held onto the biases of his non-Force using community, and he still had a considerable chip on his shoulder from when his grandfather, Zarrick, was exiled from the "Ancient and Illustrious" House of Marr due to lacking the trademark red eyes, and because his latency in the Force came later in his own life.

Malum was different, naive, a little stupid, but it's not like he himself wasn't at one time, and had to take green officers out on patrol in his life. But here, the stakes were much higher, but so too were the rewards...

...Why did he stay? Out of duty to his cousin, the little nerd was drawn to ancient knowledge like nexu to 'nip, and Trayze wanted to restore some semblance of communiality to the polarized and individualist Sith. But the more he would mentally layer questions at Sofiel, something he would normally be comfortable in, he found those questions being layered back at him.

Was he Sith? If only by blood? What were his ambitions, if the Sith needed to be reformed, redeemed, made right...what did that look like in his eyes? Could he change the Sith? Should he change it? The answer eluded him, for he still acted as he was Trayze Tesar the detective from the backwater planet. The galaxy had opened up to him, and he couldn't be an errand boy and acolyte forever...sooner or later, a Sith would either make him an apprentice, or knight him. No doubt for a factional play. This noxious notion of "stab or get stabbed" irked him, and he had sensed it, smelt it like the stench of garbage faintly found in an otherwise ordinary day.

But nothing would be done if they just stood there in the sands, this was a place of the dead, and Trayze had little intention of joining them.

"...We're lookin' fer the tomb of one "Darth Marr"." Trayze explained, wresting control if but for a moment his blood, his association with one of the more civic minded Sith in the galaxy. It was time for the prodigals to return home, to be rallied around a symbol cementing their bloodline, their fealty.

His legacy.

"Ya wouldn't 'appen ta' have passed it onyer travels, Miss Sofiel?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Enough chatter," Malum let out, a spark of madness and desperation peering through the veil as he pushed past Trayze and headed forward, directly on the path of the Lady... Lady... she had not given them a last name unless Sofiel was a last name? It did sound like one, Lady Sofiel then. Aiming to walk past her towards the Valley of the Sith behind, "As my cousin has said we are here for the great Darth Marr's tomb, a tomb which lays empty of his corpse, due to his betrayal from Valkorian," Malum hissed the last part out, as if the word was some sort of slur, visibly causing rage before he billowed it away.

"I would welcome any assistance you might grant us, and in exchange would grant you any knowledge and history I can give." Did Malum trust the woman? No, especially since the trust was not of the Sith, something Lady Sofiel knew already, but moreover, at this present moment, Malum did not find himself being able to trust much of anyone, that offered their services for essentially free.

Apart from Trayze, of course.

This was only so they did not need to have this unnecessary fight.

Only so he did not need to risk Trayze or himself, on yet more combat.

Moreover, if she did betray them.

She would be much easier to kill if she was close.

He deactivated his lightsaber as he reached close a position closer to her, a sign of trust, as his other hand grasped his amulet, before almost immediately hissing and letting go. It was blistering hot, enough to burn the skin off. They were so close.

"The tomb is closeby, the Holocron is nearby, cannot you not sense it? The Darkness... it's beautiful..." Malum breathed in, feeling his head grow light, feeling power flow through his fingers as if the tendrils of darkness were making themselves home on his form. Yet he did not mind it.

He was home.

"The better question is... where are the Crusaders of Ashla?" Malum spoke to the wind, yet loud enough for both to hear. The last time he had been here... he had not gotten even a fraction as close to the valley as he was now. Ashlan troops, with blasters and lightsabers, both biotic and abiotic had marched in cool formation, making certain, no darksider would ever return to these lands, to their birthrights.

Yet now, as he looked ahead, saw looming dark structures in the distance, their wardens were gone. Malum might have even believed they had become one with the sandy depths of the planet, perhaps the Darkness that exuded war too much for the fools of the Light after all. Yet, it was not that either, there was no abandoned equipment, no sign of fighting or resistance.

Indeed, no corpses, half-buried or not.

It seemingly just was, that one moment they were here, and in the other, they had left.

Yet what would compel the most jingoistic of lightsiders to simply abandon Korriban?

Sofiel Trayze Tesar

 

[Sofiel]

"Is that your term for those who blindly follow this.. Ashla?"

Sofiel gave too calm of a smile as she turned her gaze instead to the tomb in question. At least, one of the tombs. Which they were looking for, she certainly didn't know. How could she? She'd only just gotten here to the mortal world some time ago.

But it seemed Malum knew where it was, or at least a direction. He felt it? Curious. Very curious.

"The crusade won't threaten us. None are left. Lead the way to your prize, Sith. I will help."

Darth Malum of House Marr | Trayze Tesar | Xiveros

 

[Xiveros]

Darth Malum of House Marr | Sofiel | Trayze Tesar ​

Decades upon decades, so much time had been lost.

But now he knew, he understood the context for his return and the moment of his demise.

It was them. There was no element of surprise, and that in some part made him angrier.

How could he be so foolish? So careless?

It mattered not. It was done.

Resting his gauntlet upon a stone tablet, his mind raced through a blur of locked away memories, whispers and scattered words bombarding his psyche with the truth untold. He was proud once, headstrong and indomitable in his will and faith in his lineage. He swore greatness on his name, on the very name even he had forgotten.

Marr.

This only further proved that Xiveros' visions were not a lie - his dreams not immaterial. Yet the fact remained that his misfortune was caused by the very hands that would use him at their own disposal. He was never meant to remember anything of himself, he was meant to be an expendable piece in their ever-changing game. No matter his strength or talent, there was nothing he held that benefited them.

Another body, another casualty, another number to the millions of already rotted corpses. Their bones were a foundation for the house of death that they constructed from the sacrifices of the strong and lesser.

There was no more trusting anyone, or anything. He was not their plaything, their clueless soldier obeying orders blindly.

In silence he stood, a quiet now heavy with rising emotions - a burden placed upon his frame as he kneeled down in the chamber. "I've found it Vera... the truth. MY truth..."

Only silence to answer him with an unbiased nothingness. Alone in his revelation, in this world.