The Lost

[Aellin Tedronai]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

Korriban.

It was a world of dust, rock, and tombs. A world that had seen so much looting and ransacking that there was naught left but empty chambers and long dead corpses. Aellin knew the truth of this, he knew that it had been so for centuries now. The Empire, The Republic, The Primeval, The Silver Sanctum Coaltion and even The Mandalorians had held that once great world. They had taken and taken, looted the tombs of the once great lords and left nothing for those who would come later. It was the tragedy of Korriban, the lament that so many had played through.

The very fact disgusted him.

There was no respect for the lost, no respect for those who had come before.

People wandered around with trinkets from those who had once caused the galaxy to shake with fear. They moved with Darth Bane's cloak, frolicked with the lightsaber of Darth Revan, posed with the gauntlet of Kresh. The very thought abhorred him, that these once great men, these symbols of power and passion had nothing left even within their after life. Their Legacy's tarnished, destroyed, the things that they held of value within their life left as nothing more than mere trinkets collected by those who now considered themselves strong.

Fury pulled through him as Aellin looked through the empty tomb, his eyes wandering along the desecrated corpses and withered husks. He felt saddened, depressed almost by the state of this once Throne World. He wished to have seen it in it's prime, to witness the power and glory of the ancient Empire. His hands curled at his side, the brand upon his shoulder burning as he wandered through the broken stone archways.

There was something wrong here. Deeply wrong.

 

[Placeholder 04]

Every sentient being that dared call themselves Sith needed to have a pilgrimage to Korriban.

There were many among the rabble that chose to ignore history, to pretend that what was wasn't and that the lessons of the past were not worth learning. Mephirium had never been the type for such idiocy. Though he had spent his more recent years as a Jedi - a misguided path taken by the urging of his late mother, he had always retained a connection to this dead place. As a child, Lord Vulcanus had brought the boy here to be tested within the tombs. He had failed, and paid dearly for it.

Still, he recalled what he had thought to be the whispers of the long dead Sith Lords. It was quite unlikely that those which chose to speak had whispered for his ears alone, but he had heard them all the same. So it was that in the middle of a planning session for the coming attack on Coruscant, Darth Mephirium absconded to the ancient Sith home world in search of...what? He truly had no idea.

On Dromund Kass, the spirits of his father an those that had fallen before him had grace him with their blessing. Here, he might have hoped for the same from one of the old Lords. It would do little to aid his cause, save for help him through his own self-assessment. It was worth the trip anyhow.

His cloak flapped in the quaint breeze as he trudged across the red sands. The force guided him today. He needed to clear his mind; to reaffirm his sense of purpose and his surety in his actions. There was nowhere to focus back on the fleet. One of the Moffs was always rushing to him with a report, and if not them, then the Sith who had pledged themselves to his cause were being rowdy.

Here, there was naught but the wind and the force to bother him. He could live with that.

His feet carried him to one of the old tombs. Every one of them had been ransacked by looters, but that did not take away their spiritual significance. He drew back his cowl as he delved deeper into cavern of cracking rock and forgotten bones.

Then something shifted.

Blue eyes peered out into the darkness. He saw a figure, alone so far as he could tell, doing...he had no idea. Mephirium stopped at the foot of the stairs in stood tall.

"Well, hello there."

[member="Aellin Tedronai"]

 

[Aellin Tedronai]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

Aellin turned to look down the steps, bright yellow eyes searing through the blackness of the tomb. He spotted the figure at the bottom of the stairs, tall, hooded and cloaked. His lips almost immediately thinned, his hands tightened at his side. There was a temptation to go for his lightsabers, to attack and strike before this man had a chance to do anything at all, but he knew such a thing would have been foolish.

To attack without knowing ones opponent was folly.

Death.

Aellin knew better than that, he knew to wait, to learn, to watch and listen. His hands slowly unfurled, fingers expanding slowly as he turned back towards the steps and looked down at the man. He tried to reach out in the force, catch a sense of the man, his strength. Within the darkness Aellin peered, studying the man for one more brief moment before finally answering his call. "This place is sacred."

That was the answer the man received.

"Are you here to find some lost treasure?" His voice rolled through the dark, authoritative yet somehow meek. "I'm afraid you're too late. The great riches that were once found upon this world are gone. Taken by the Jedi, smugglers, even Sith."

Those who claimed to revere this place the most, those who claimed to love and worship at the feet of ancient Dark Lords, they had done the worst of it. They had taken what had belonged to the dead, stolen their possessions and used them to increase their own glory. It was they that had committed the worst of crimes, they who had broken the Covenant that should have been forged long ago. Ailenn flexed his hand as he thought of them, the desecration that they had wrought upon Korriban.

 

[Placeholder 04]

He did not reach for a weapon. Victory was better achieved by a way or words rather than violence if at all possible. It conserved resources.

With a moment's hesitation, Mephirium strode into the tomb. Blue eyes flickered left than right, taking in the room. He did not respond all at once, opting to get a handle on his surroundings before humoring the stranger. A few moments passed before his curiosity was sated, and he turned his attentions back to the stranger entirely.

"I've no need for the trinkets of dead men," Mephirium grumbled.

He folded his arms over his chest and drew in a deep breath. The air was stale and decrepit - it reminded him of the old priests' temple on Gratos. Everything here was dead, save for this man.

Who was he?

"I've only come to commune with the tombs. They provide clarity when all else is chaos." His own voice was a low rumbling, the slightest hint of amusement lacing his words. "I would assume you've come to do the same, unless you're one of the grave robbers?"

He lofted a brow and reached out with the force. It was a simple nudge within the ethereal realm - a method to gauge how much of a threat this man was. The would-be usurper wasn't here looking for a fight.

"I did not expect to find anyone here. People don't pay Korriban much mind these days." Cybernetic fingers drew lines across the cracked stone walls. "A pilgrim, perhaps?"

[member="Aellin Tedronai"]

 

[Aellin Tedronai]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

A pilgrim?

Was that what he was? A traveler to a holy site? A visitor to a land of worship? The comparison was apt enough he supposed, accurate in a way that the man would likely never be able to guess. Korriban for many Sith was more than just a place to loot, it was a source of power. Despite all that had been taken from this place, despite the empty tombs and the ransacked Valley, the home of the former Dark Lords was still a concentration of power.

Here the darkside lingered, biting the very air and stinging the nostrils.

It was why many people came here, it was why this man had come here. It was partially why Aellin himself had come here. Frowning slightly beneath his mask the young Acolyte took a few steps deep into the tomb, moving within the odd mists that began to slowly sprawl over the cave. "A good enough description."

Aelllin finally answered the man.

"Perhaps it is more apt to say that I am a traveler." His voice boomed within the tomb, echoing from the walls. "I seek nothing in particular, nor do I come to sit within these holy sites."

Aellin actually wasn't sure why he had come here, wasn't sure why he had made his path to Korriban. His parents had always spoken highly of the world, had called it the pinnacle of the old Empire. Now it was naught but rubble, all the beauty and power drained away from it. The mystery of his childhood had come and gone long ago, the ethos of power that lingered here nothing but a pale reflection of what had once been thousands of years ago.

 

[Placeholder 04]

The force had brought him here. Mephirium was not the type to delve into ancient tombs because he liked the smell of them. His feet had guided him, but his mind had been within the ethereal realm. He and this man had crossed paths for a reason, and Mephirium intended to find out why.

"I am much the same," Mephirium confirmed, "I've a great decision to make. These old tombs...they provide a certain clarity rarely found anywhere else." hint of a smile laced his words as he drew back his cowl. Mephirium was relatively young for one who would make the kind of claims that he did - one could easily pay that to youthful arrogance. Such was not the case, but assumptions were dreadfully easy to make.

"I am Darth Mephirium," he voiced, knowing full well this man never would have heard of him. Blue eyes shifted to the stairwell that led further into the tomb. The powers of the Dark Side were tangible here; the air was electric and the force shifted about like a caged beast.

Deeper within? Mephirium could not say.

"I intend to see this entire tomb," he turned to look at his would-be companion. "To see what trials the old ghosts might have in waiting. Care to join me?"

[member="Aellin Tedronai"]

 

[Aellin Tedronai]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

He had thought to explore the tomb, had thought to search out it's secrets. Aellin knew that there was something left here, though nothing physical. Korriban had been long ago looted to nothing, had been drawn raggedness, but this tomb, all the others...a power still lingered here.

Most would have ignored it, most of the fools that called themselves Sith would have simply passed it by.

There were no more physical representations of power here, no more grand statues or trinkets to be collected, no more holocrons to be found. That was no longer what the Valley of the Dark Lords offered, no longer the service that it provided. There was something else that lingered here, a power, the thing that this man before him sensed. Perhaps they were kindred spirits in that, their quest for whatever remained here upon this broken and barren rock. He considered for a moment more, pondering the thought before finally settling on an answer.

"Very well." They would find what still lurked within this place.

The masked man turned, expecting the other to follow him. The tomb was as a maze, small scratched markings on the walls pointing the way towards the true path. Aellin knew this, having read the ancient passages that his parents had held on this place, he wondered if the other man did as well.

"You decision." Aellin prodded the man as they began to walk. "What is it?"

 

[Placeholder 04]

The question was an honest one, and one that Mephirium could not afford to answer in full. Though his intentions were known by some, it was not wise to spread them about to anyone under the sun. The plan required some semblance of subtlety to actually succeed, and while this one - he did not know the man's name - seemed amiable enough compared to the others, he had no claim to Mephirium's trust.

"I cannot say as of yet," Mephirium said instead, "I can say that it will greatly affect the future of the Sith as they are now, if I make the right choice."

He let that hang for a moment as they strode further into the tomb. In the first room, it held felt stifling, as if the world was slowly beginning to close around him. Here, the air was electric and hot: the force thrumming with untapped power. This was the strength of the Sith Lords of the past - the strength he intended to call upon should he prove himself worthy.

The only problem being whatever tests might lay ahead.

He let Aelin lead the way, having no prior knowledge of the tomb himself. The younger man seemed to know where he was going.

"If I fail, then what I intend to do will be seen as a footnote in our history," he continued, "A bloody one, but a footnote nonetheless."

He paused for a moment and mulled something over. "Your name."

[member="Aellin Tedronai"]

 

[Aellin Tedronai]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

"All Sith?" Aellin commented.

That statement was filled with Hubris.

In this galaxy there were thousands of different Sith, hundreds of different orders, dozens of different Dark Lords. There were those who held power now, those within the Empire that called themselves One Sith. Their doctrine was one of unity, one that above all supported the idea of an ideal, the ideal of their Dark Lord. They moved together, lived together, they were unified and unbroken by argument and strife. Aellin had always thought this brilliant, the best situation in his mind, but also flawed.

The Sith were not meant to live as such, they were not meant to be herded and corralled. His parents had taught him that, oddly enough, and his siblings had reinforced it. There was no singular ideal, there was no unity, there was only the rule of the strongest. He frowned slightly, shifting his step as they moved deeper into the tomb and the ground became more and more unsteady.

"There is hubris to your words." Aellin ignored the mans question. "You presume much if you think you can change the course of an entire culture."

That was what the Sith were after all, a culture. "You are either very strong, or very foolish."

It was no insult to the man, though not really a compliment either. Baelid had been of the same mind as this man. His brother had thought himself capable of being the new Dark Lord, capable of taking over and bringing to heel even those Sith at the core of the galaxy. Of course, his brother had been blind to the end, and that had been his downfall. Some were so concerned with the future, so concerned with what was ahead of them that they never looked back.

The Issue with that was; most threats came from behind.

 

[Placeholder 04]

"Perhaps not all of us, there will always be Sith who dissent, but a large number of us will be affected," Mephirium corrected. The man was right, of course. Mephirium had afforded himself a bit of arrogance in the last few weeks. He would never allow himself to become over-indulgent or egregiously self-absorbed, but a bit of confidence didn't hurt.

"I don't intend to change what we are - that would be impossible. You might make a few small changes to an idea, but it will always exist in its previous form within the minds of some." Mephirium took note of his question - moreover the fact that the stranger had chosen to ignore it. A mild point of irritation, but he would know not to ask again, at the very least.

"I do intend to change the direction of our empire, if at all possible," Mephirium continued, "Only to sharpen its edges before they begin to dull. Complacency is our greatest enemy."

Peace is a lie.

The One Sith were a beast all their own. Though vastly successful, there were inherent flaws that Mephirium intended to capitalize on. He wanted to bring some manner of security to the core and beyond; to press his vision onto the galaxy. Those who followed him saw him as a moderate - a man who took some of the Sith doctrines and blended them with that of a more traditional Imperial view. They believed he cared for peace, and intended to bring it to the One Sith. That he would rewire the way that machine worked so that it might thrive for a thousand years.

Some of that was true. Mephirium was a moderate, and he did care more about the people than any Sith worth his salt ever should. And yet, above all that, he craved the power the Dark Lord's position would bring him. Those who followed were tools to be used for his ascension - an ascension he had led others to believe was for the greater good of the empire. Part of that, again, was true, and then part of it was not.

He would set in place a power that would end conflict in the galaxy, and then they would find other galaxies, other worlds to grind their teeth on. Eventually he would die, and unlike some, would accept his death with open arms. Then his children would rule, and their children's children.

The sound of stone squeaking beneath his feet drew him from his reverie. He looked up, lofting a brow at the large chamber they had found themselves in. In the center of the room was a single table, and at its end, another tunnel. The walls were covered in the many signs that his companion seemed to interested in.

"I am not arrogant enough to believe I could control the Sith in their entirety. That is a fool's goal," he frowned slightly at the table, "One must be a bit of a fool if they ever wish to grow."

[member="Aellin Tedronai"]

 

[Aellin Tedronai]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

Aellin did not answer for a time, instead he read the symbols upon the wall. They were ancient SIth, a dialect that most thought long lost now. His father had always thought himself a scholar, had taught all of his children even the least favored, how to read the past of their heritage. Aellin had found comfort in that, the knowledge that he had been taught and the abilities that it granted him. As a child he had always thought himself the least of his family. The least clever, the least strong, the least attractive.

Compared to his siblings he had been nothing. His brother and Sister both had superseded him in nearly everything they did. Combat, knowledge, power within the force. They had been smarter, stronger, faster, but not more cunning. In the end it had been that quality that had doomed them and given rise to Aellin himself. He supposed that in the end he would have cunning over any other quality, the ability to outwit rather than out think.

There was power in its own in that.

"Arrogance is the end of many of us." Aellin told the man as he inspected the runes upon the wall. "We think ourselves powerful enough to fight all adversaries, over come all opponents. We think that we ourselves have the truest version of the story, that no one can stand against us and no one should stand against us. Arrogance is the undoing of us."

He preached to the man, his eyes slowly turning towards him. "Yet it also gives us strength. It allows us to do more than we should, gives us an edge of daring, something that the Jedi severely lack."

Aellin recalled the histories of the Sith. Revan, Exar Kun, Bane. Men who had all dared to take an extra step, men who had been egotistical enough, arrogant enough to bring about great change within the Sith. Valkorion himself, the most powerful Sith to ever walk the Galaxy, had been arrogant enough to think he could consume the entirety of the galaxy, and had nearly succeeded. Arrogance was a necessity when one became a Sith Lord, it allowed them to push forward.

"You have allies I assume?" Aellin said as he read more of the runes. "Friends? Compatriots? Servants?"

 

[Placeholder 04]

(Sorry for taking a bit. I've been away, and dealing with the coup stuff when I have been around.)

Mephirium did his best to keep an open mind about things. It was a sore ruler who closed his ears to the words of those that might assist him. Still, he did not have this man's name, and his advice had been heard before. The would-be-usurper found himself a bit curious. There were a number of Sith in the galaxy as of late; the teachings were easily found via holocrons and older Sith looking to share their knowledge. It seemed like acolytes, and occasionally lords here and there, were all crawling out of the woodwork. Therefore, it was no surprise that he did not know this man.

Still, as he eyed the stranger over his shoulder, he couldn't help but ponder the possibilities.

"One or two," Mephirium mused as he turned to face the young man, "I've planned ahead, if that's what you're asking."

Mephirium paused for a moment and turned his attentions toward the table. Some form of sacrificial alter, perhaps? He had heard stories of sorcerers using blood sacrifices to manipulate life as they saw fit - the most basic form of alchemy.

He grimaced. Such things weren't to his tastes.

Something shifted within the force. It was a subtle thing, a simple warning of the things to come. A deep rumbling from the innards of the tomb followed it; a sound Mephirium would have associated with a hyperdrive coming to life. His brow furrowed.

"The spirits of the tomb, perhaps?" He strode down the hall that led further into the tomb, "Or one of their forgotten protectors?"

[member="Aellin Tedronai"]