Warden Reborn
Two weeks. Travel time. Not a lie directly. Not intentionally.
He'd be a day or two late. Not that such a thing would be new and exciting. It was one of the deepest character flaws his wife had come to expect from him. Once Voph caught a scent, he wasn't eager to let it rest. And caught a scent he had.
He'd parted ways with his son on Odessen, and now set out on his own to cover the Old Paths. Back to where it'd all started. The Tyrant emerged from hyperspace a ways from Commenori sensor range. Not that Voph was trying to remain undetected. But old habits die hard. He stared blindly ahead as the sapphire sphere slowly filled his viewscreen. In spite of everything, he couldn't forget that horrible moment. The gasping for breath, the sound of a medical sensor going critical in the background. The pressure in his head as the panic consumed him. The realization that he was alone in the galaxy. All his work for nothing, all his sacrifice meaningless.
The planet below had been his first step into a new world. Fitting, then, that it was the place his search would begin. Voph stirred from his memories only to pull the ship into a wide arc. Commenor was not his goal. Not today. His trajectory settled on the moon of Brelor. Upon a time, it had been a favored vacation destination in the galaxy at large. The first place he'd called home since...
He drew a breath. Since Siegebreaker. A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, but such was a thing he could not afford to dwell upon in the moment. He guided the Tyrant down to the surface, transmitting his typical IFF codes and obtaining all proper clearances.
Name: Tyrant of Hunger
Pilot: Darth Voph
Affiliation: Null
Purpose: Private
Authorization: REDACTED
In, Out, and Gone before any of these reckless upstarts had a chance to cause problems. Not that he feared the Sith. But he knew their ways better than most. Such was his business.
Things certainly had changed, Voph thought. The coordinates led to a patch of wilderness that was overgrown with no signs of civilization. Not surprising, since that had been fifty years ago. And still, old habits died hard. Voph pulled the ship down to a nearby clearing, and set down. As he stood to depart the ship, he could already feel the hairs standing on the back of his neck. Someone was coming to investigate. As anyone could expect. He pulled his faceless helmet down over his head. If not the name, the title certainly drew attention from any Sith. Particularly from a nation that hadn't existed when last Darth Voph graced this planet...
