Private The Sickness of Belief

[Anet Raine]

At some point, the Dark Lord convinced Anet to swap swips between Lorrd and Serias. When they arrived on the Wild Space mystery, it was in the Sith's sleek and sly courier. Anet had to admit, it was certainly a more comfortable experience, though she had some minor complaints about Anathemous's collection of archaeological tools.

The first thing either of them would have noticed en route was the truly massive asteroid belt that occupied more than half the star system.

Academic as she was, Anet made her thoughts known.

"Only the destruction of planets could cause such a debris field."

When they landed, it was fortuitously close to their actual destination. An opening in a wonderfully massive grotto, with a natural trail that led towards the archaeological site itself. However, on their approach, sensors indicated several sources of power, suggesting settlement in roughly the same area as their Zeffonian ruin. Anet and Anathemous made the uneventful hike, perhaps took in some views, and arrived at a scenic overlook.

Their suspicions were confirmed. It seemed that the new 'Jedi Enclave' on Serias was located at the foot of a large, ancient tower that appeared remarkably intact for its age. Unlikely a coincidence in their arrangement, though Anet wasn't one to approach with caution. She marched along, down the small hill, and into the fledgling compound where more than a dozen Jedi appeared to meditate.

"Welcome!" A voice interjected at their arrival. "The Order of Serias welcomes you, Jedi!"

He was a lanky, robed Jedi with short brown hair and a scraggly goatee. His robes suggested he never advanced beyond Padawan before absconding from the war.

"I am Brother Azkul, and you Sisters are...?"

Anet cleared her throat and looked at Anathemous. "Master?"

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Anet Raine

"Glorious, isn't it?" replied Anathemous.

"Not so much the destruction, but that lingering echo, heard by so few."

There was power to be drawn from such history, she would teach Anet in due time. It shaped the historian whether she realized it or not, and in turn, perhaps one day she would shape the world right back.

Their subsequent trip was quiet, the Sith strolling leisurely through the woods with her acolyte, taking in the fresh air and sounds of whistling birds. She looked a stark contrast to her dark robes and warrior physique, running gloved fingers through leaves and tall grass. She looked almost peaceful, intrigued as much by untamed nature as destruction.

She even picked a flower.

When they approached the camp, her serene demeanor shifted again. Golden eyes darted at every sound, exit and tower. Thankfully her signature was nigh undetectable, something the she had taught her long ago...

The Jedi foolishly greeted them as sisters of their order, pacifists and cowards who'd ran to this place at the first sign of trouble. She kept it hidden from most but perhaps in such close proximity, Anet may feel the bitter anger behind her practiced smile.

"I am Brother Azkul, and you Sisters are...?"

Anet cleared her throat and looked at Anathemous. "Master?"

"I am Master Solus and this is my student, Padawan Raine." she smiled, but there was no love in it.

Though hidden behind wide sleeves, her hand never once strayed from the lightsabers about her hip.

"Perhaps you might be of help, Brother Azkul? My padawan and I are trying to restore a Zeffonian device crucial to our mission. We were told that tower there-" she pointed a gloved finger at the structure.

"-may hold what we seek."

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Anet found the Dark Lord's demeanor curious, out in the wild... was this perhaps the true nature of her master? Or was there more philosophy than that? Perhaps Anathemous was one face, Kaila on Lorrd another, and the nature lover a third such reflection. These were the idle thoughts of Anet, who often found her mind adrift in a state that wasn't unlike meditation - even if her mind was occupied.

The Dark Lord's response to the Jedi greeter intrigued Anet, as did her new cover story. From lovers to Jedi... now there's a holoflick plot you don't see. Talk about flipping a trope on its head.

Pale blue eyes darted between Jedi and Sith, the scholarly acolyte silent between them.

"The Zeffonians?" He pondered.

It seemed he was quite ignorant of the ruin.

He scratched his head. "I think I've heard Brother Crian mention a word like that - something to do with the big tower.

"Can't really help you, though... But you're going to want to talk to him anyway, seeing as you're both new here."

The greeter tossed a thumb over his shoulder, in a general direction, near where the slope began its steady climb to the tower's entrance.

"He usually meditates up the hill. You'll know him when you see him."

Anet looked back at Anathemous with a held tongue. When the two began to move again, it was to press through the compound as if they belonged. The meditative group they saw on the way in was mostly young Jedi - teenagers and the like - and not a single one of them reacted to their presence. There were also visible signs of dehydration and sunburns, as if they had been like that for a day or longer.

Stranger still were the unusual 'decorations' that filled the space. At first glance, it looked like a cultural art display, but after enough time, it showed a more disturbing trend. Crude reliefs of war, the reverence of fallen Jedi bordering on worship, and most of all, a repeating face of a man. His depiction was more stern than stoic, but one could guess it meant to convey both qualities and more.

She turned an upset glance at Anathemous and kept her words quiet. "Master... this is... disturbing."

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Anet Raine

By the Fanged-God...

They were as usefully stupid as they were annoying.

"Ah, I see. Good day to you then, Brother Azkul."

More like brother As- no, no she dared not indulge such intrusive thoughts. Instead she inclined her chin, politely, barely, and excused herself to the hill.

They passed many oddities; padawans who reminded her more of war refugees, iconography that reminded her of Him. If not in form, than certainly in function. Her observations were clear, so much more alert than before, vigilance hardly concealed as they passed the dazed and unaware.

"Master... this is... disturbing."

"Yes." she muttered through grit teeth.

"Reminds me of my master's cults, more than any Jedi temple...."

The two began climbing that hill, her thumb tracing less than soothing circles over the lock on her sheath. Already her pace had changed, from the calm serenity of a false Jedi to a warrior's march.

"And I suspect we'll be seeing that man in person soon enough..."

Anger was boiling beneath the surface at this point, restraints subtly giving.

"Are you armed, acolyte?"

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Armed?!

Her heart skipped a beat.

As the daughter of a particularly wealthy, noteworthy, and powerful man, Anet had some self-defense training. At times, she had carried a holdout blaster, but here?

"No," she answered plainly.

When they reached the top of the hill, there he was, the man from the depictions. Strong, perhaps in his early forties, human. The expression they saw on the way up wasn't some artistic interpretation. He wore it like a mask in a meditative stance. His eyelids opened as soon as they arrived.

At a glance, he appeared to wear some kind of scale armor, but as they got closer... The cut and carved pieces of stormtrooper armor, strewn across strings and worn like an outer shell over his dusty white robes. He rose to his feet with a stance not unlike the most experienced Jedi Knights. This was certainly the rarest sight at the enclave - a true Jedi warrior.

The Force emanated cryptically around him. Not that Anet would know, but perhaps Anathemous did, and it was her he looked at.

"You are unfamiliar to me, sister, but your walk and stance betray your youth."

It was a vague observation, not a question, though he did follow up with one.

"Have you come seeking the true wisdom of the Force?" His gaze turned to Anet. "And what of her?"

At his hip was a truly beautiful weapon. Polished and taken care of. An interesting contrast to the rest of him. If he really was a warrior, he may've been remarkably victorious to have such an unscathed blade.

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Anet Raine

"I will lend you mine, if need be." she whispered, conspiratorially.

If Anet paid attention to her equipment, the Sith was carrying a second lightsaber, locked away in some kind of sheath or holster, secured by a latch over the pommel.

Perhaps one might argue against such a risk, but Anathemous was focused entirely on a battle yet to come, in which she and the acolyte may both find common cause, regardless of any lingering distrust.


The sight which awaited them was exactly as she'd foreseen; Golden eyes were drawn to scales of plastoid, she'd recognize the Corps' armor anywhere, be it black or bone-white. It wasn't like Jedi to take war trophies though, the very idea made her brows knit.

The saber thought, that quickly absorbed her attention.

"Have you come seeking the true wisdom of the Force?" His gaze turned to Anet. "And what of her?"

Only after another beat did her eyes lift from that magnificent weapon.

"I'm afraid the truths we seek differ, if only some." she hummed cryptically.

Her expression remained dour, and vigilant. It was the face of many sith, yes, but also Jedi who cut themselves off from their emotions completely. Or perhaps, men like him...

Gloved hands threaded inside her sleeves, but kept them close to her core, polite, monk-like, her saber ever close.

"We seek the technology of Zeffos, to unlock a... project, my student and I." she jut her chin towards Anet.

Another glance at his trinkets.

"What a fine lightsaber you carry, Brother."

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Anet's heart pounded faster when the Sith suggested she borrow one of her weapons.

Even as it was offered, she froze. It was not a device she had ever used before, or fought with, and from her studies she knew it to be harder than it looked. More than that, she worried about starting a fight surrounded by Jedi. Even if Anathemous was a Dark Lord, surely it didn't mean she could just get away with such wanton slaughter...

Little, perhaps, did she know.

Brother Crian, on the other hand, remained poised, even up to the moment that Anathemous sized him up the same as he did her. In the end, the near-human felt defeated, and her hand recoiled from the Sith's offer. Now was not the moment for her to claim the weapon - even temporarily.

The Jedi chuckled at her response. "As long as you seek it, Sister, that is what matters."

His stoicism cracked a little when he mentioned the Zeffonian. He glanced over his shoulder, if only for a second, at the massive tower behind him.

"Then you've come to the right place, but you already know that."

His tone became cautious. "However... This ruin is different," he stretched his legs. "A Jedi historian found his way here and has been inside for several days. I don't know that he is still alive, but if you stop to meditate... You can feel it...

"The echo of an ancient power resonates from this place. It calls to the Force, sings if you listen."

There was the hint of a slight grin when Anathemous mentioned his weapon.

"It is a Jedi's weapon like any other. I am grateful that it is mine."

He turned his attention away from Anet and Anathemous both, the former tossing a concerned glance at the latter, as he faced the tower head-on.

"If you and your student seek entrance, then I must warn you... Power and secrets aren't the only threats inside. There are also its ancient guardians, and beyond that, something else. In there, truths will be revealed. I will say no more than that."

Anet leaned in to whisper. "We should cooperate, My Lord. Something tells me he knows more than he says but less than he thinks..."

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Anet Raine

The blonde tilted her head curiously.

A historian vanished, power resonance, the peculiar way these Jedi conducted themselves. Anathemous was beginning to glean truth and suspicion both, that this ruin indeed sang to them... they just misunderstood the lyrics.

There was the hint of a slight grin when Anathemous mentioned his weapon.

"It is a Jedi's weapon like any other. I am grateful that it is mine."

Veiled pride. how interesting.

"Oh, of course," she smiled faintly "Merely an extension of ourselves, but the sabersmith in me is pleased."

Her expression unmasked soon as he turned, exchanging wary glances with Anet.

"Well, I appreciate the warning, Brother Crian. We'll not linger overlong then."

Anathemous spoke no more of it, quietly excusing herself with a nod, and approaching the great tower. She stayed close to her "padawan", and it was not until they left earshot that she leaned in.

"You've good instincts, Acolyte." she whispered.

"I suspect this ruin is corrupting them somehow, perhaps without their knowing."

"Their judgement maybe clouded enough that hiding among them will be easy, but stay alert,"

One last glance before turning their attention to the tower.

"We may be challenged yet."

​

 

[Anet Raine]

If this ruin was a source of corruption, then why couldn't she feel it? That is what Anet wondered.

Brother Crian returned to his meditation as Anathemous turned her attention to the tower.

Anet followed her master into the ruin's entrance. It grew cold as soon as they passed the threshold where sunlight turned to shade, under curved stone that beckoned almost curiously. The historian in her was immediately drawn to the signs - faint wall carvings that once depicted beautifully. Faded, worn, and chipped away by weather and time. Her fingers trailed the subtle grooves as if there was something to be gleaned that way, touching an overgrowth of vines and other foliage that disrupted the patterns.

Further in, the space opened up into a dome at the interior base of the tower, where the overgrowth seemed to stop as suddenly in a thicket at the center. It covered something, an entrance of sorts, and there were signs of scorched plant matter withered on the ground. Recent enough that it hadn't decayed... so how had it regrown so perfectly to hide the wounds? Where a gap should have been found, there was only more thicket.

The half-pantoran followed the chopped matter to the point where she believed it had to have been cut, if scant evidence was anything to go by.

"Here, My Lord," she made no pretense of hiding her voice any longer. "Cut through here."

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Anet Raine

The two historians mirrored, tracing intricate carvings on opposite walls.

Pure instinctive curiosity, she didn't even notice Anet was doing the same thing. The vegetation grew thicker along the stone with every step, and Anathemous began scanning with her wrist computer, trying to determine what it was.

Something soft and wet burst beneath her heel, turning her attention to the floor. A severed vine, burnt by what must have been a lightsaber. Strange? a glance around the room revealed no sign that any of these vines were cut, and the fresh corpses of their kin lay scattered about.

"There is a power here," she murmured lowly "seeped into the Goddess' roots."

"Here, My Lord," she made no pretense of hiding her voice any longer. "Cut through here."

"Good eye."

She popped the latch off her sheath, a lightsaber floating out of it's own accord. It was held aloft in her waiting hand, bathing the corridor in an ominous violet as she swung back and forth from shoulder to hip and back, clearing a path in two handed strikes that looked so powerful, yet so effortless by the warrior's strength. Simple Form I cuts, unexciting but efficient.

"Hrmh. does your research say anything about rejuvenating flora among Zeffonian ruins, Acolyte?" she grunted.

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Goddess?

Not a noun she expected to hear come from her master's lips. Save, for instance, in a more metaphorical or egotistical sense.

A small pride welled inside of her at the Sith's praise. Anet couldn't help but smile to herself. Then, the Dark Lord ignited her brilliant violet blade. This was the first time the acolyte had seen the weapon in action, and she paused to examine it like a scientist would a specimen. She watched as it effortlessly cut a path through the vines.

It took her a moment to process the question she was asked.

Hmm?

"Oh," she audibled her distraction, "Zeffonians are not my expertise, My Lord. I really could not say... though in my experience, any temple erected somewhere strong in the Force is likely to have unique properties."

She'd chalk it up to that, for now.

Though in truth, she was far more fascinated by what lay ahead rather than analyzing what they've seen thus far. Which was actually rare for her. The historian was quite adamant on due diligence, best practices, and all that proper academic process. She didn't wait to squeeze herself through the opening, which was tantamount to cave crawling with how tight it was.

For a moment, she feared they would simply get stuck and die in here, but eventually they squeezed out into a much larger --

No... Wait!

-- Anet screamed as she began to fall at least a dozen meters. A drop that opened up into a much larger and buried chamber.

Was this how she would die?

Kaila Irons

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Anet Raine

"Isn't expertise why I hired you...?" she said over the thrum and hiss of that slashing.

"Well... I suppose I didn't hire you exactly, but you know what I mean."

Finally the path was clear, burning vines lighting the entrance for the pair of explorers. Anathemous cast a glance at the rustling behind her, the vines already seeming to regrow as they passed deeper into that narrow corridor. Anet was already ahead, squeezing into the narrow end of the passage.

The sith followed, thankful she'd forgone the usual armor.

"You know, this reminds me of a job on-"

Anet screamed, and vanished.

"Raine!"

Anathemous rushed to squeeze through the hole, weathered stonework biting into her robes, pushing against metal ribs. The historian would continue to fall all the while.

A meter. two meters. three and a half meters—then suddenly stopped.

The sith grit her teeth as she secured the woman in an unseen grasp, hand out, leaning over the edge to see that thankfully Anet was alright.

With a sigh of relief, she stepped over the edge, falling much faster than Anet for a few meters before coming to a dramatic stop, robes and hair whipped by the sudden change, only to settle into an almost serene gentility as the Dark Lord levitated downward as though a feather, right up until she and Anet were eye level.

"Are you alright, Acolyte?" she asked with genuine concern.

​