Private Those Who Have Lost Their Way

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - Soliane Desari



The tomb swallowed light as though it had never known it.

Malachor's stone corridors pressed in with a silence so total that even breath seemed to betray its weight. Darth Virelia moved through it like a blade drawn in slow, inevitable arcs. Her armor whispered with each step, metal against stone, the faint glow of violet circuitry bleeding through carved glyphs whose meanings had rotted away centuries ago. Dust clung to every seam, ancient particles disturbed for the first time in millennia.

She was not here to admire the grave. She was here to claim what it refused to give.

Every surface of the tomb bore scars. Columns split by old weapon strikes, murals shattered into slivers, stairways collapsed into yawning abysses. The war that had once ended civilizations had burned itself into the bones of this place. And yet, beneath the ruin, something lived. She could feel it—like a hand brushing across her throat. The Dark Side pooled here in veins so deep they hummed against her senses. It was not the passive malice of Malachor's surface storms. This was active, deliberate. Waiting.

Her gauntleted fingers traced the edge of a monolithic sarcophagus. The stone was black-veined, slick as oil, carved with symbols she only half recognized. Sith script. Rakatan influence. Something older still. She let her hand linger, absorbing the pulse beneath the cold exterior. Her lips parted, voice low but cutting the silence like a ritual blade:

"Secrets are useless in the dark. You will be mine."

The tomb gave no answer. But she knew it listened.

Down another corridor, the walls began to change. Smooth stone gave way to jagged protrusions, spikes of obsidian that seemed to grow inward, curling like claws. The Force whispered louder here, visions threading into her mind: warriors kneeling, screaming, their flesh undone in ritual; chains binding necks and wrists; a single figure rising above them all, crowned in crimson light. Virelia drank it in, not resisting. Pain was an inheritance. Dominion was the only truth worth worship.

She descended further, boots ringing on fractured steps. Each level down stripped more of the world away until even the echo of her own presence felt smothered. The Dark Side was thick enough to choke on. It coiled through her veins like venom, delicious and suffocating at once. A lesser seeker would have turned back. That thought almost amused her.

Ahead lay a final chamber, sealed by an obsidian door cracked by time but still defiant. She raised her hand, violet sparks crawling over her fingers, lightning licking the air with the sound of tearing silk. The crack widened under her will. Dust and cold air rushed out, carrying with it the smell of rust, bone, and something sweeter—incense burned centuries past but never quite gone.

Virelia stepped through. The chamber yawned wide, cavernous, filled with half-buried relics and shattered statues. At its heart, something glowed faintly beneath a layer of ash and stone. She moved closer, eyes catching the shimmer.

And then—

Footsteps.

Not hers.

They echoed from behind, measured, deliberate.

 

[Soliane Desari]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


Nal Hutta was a bastion of criminality. The haven of syndicates, potential clientele and their frequent hearsay. Yet, this time around, it had been more akin to a cautionary tale, of how the greedy will always succumb to forces beyond control. For the adventurous souls who perused out to the planet, searching for riches, wound up mad or... a distant memory as they lay foot on its surface. Some more seasoned men mentioned how darkness itself had consumed the planet whole, and that only violence rampaged within its atmosphere. A promise of destruction reiterated from many lips.

Curiosity was a fool's ally, her mentor had always preached. Forcing Soliane to always obey his every word, his command, for the sake of the contract and for their lives themselves. Now, left on her own, such obeisance faltered as only the desire to discover, to thrive, burned bright within her youthful soul. So whilst her ship trembled and shook as it crossed the violent storms lingering on Malachor's obscure surface, she pressed on, searching these riches oft-spoken of.

Yet one would be a fool to deny the heaviness upon the heart once she set foot on it. As if breathing itself was tinged with hatred, with this persisting agony. As if a thousand people weighed down on a single one. Soliane put on a breathing mask and took her bag, checking whether her scanner and tools were still occupying it, before heading towards the distant ruin.

Each second on this planet, appeared like one too many, yet she refused to falter like her rivals had done before. Entering the dusty passage leading into an intricate system of tombs, that forced her scanner to hum in accordance. Yet it acted sporadically, shifting between detecting a nearer energy source and one more distant. It made Soliane stop in her tracks, and quietly grab her blaster from her pouch and placing it on her hip in preparation.

Whilst the tombs she had faced before with her mentor, Jado, had been deep and riddled with false walls and traps, this one was open... Had it been looted already? Then the smuggler's tales had been incorrect, and riches had long been taken by their predecessors. Sol let out an annoyed noise and kicked down her foot on the stone floor, before defeatedly moving ahead in the tomb.

It did not take her long to find the key behind the open doors and 'defused' traps. A single armoured figure, much taller than she was, a threat... Her scanner started to beep as the door opened, vibrating in her bag, whilst Sol kept her eyes on the stranger. Swiftly reaching out for her blaster pistol before aiming it with shaky hands at the foreigner. "Don't move! I won't hesitate to fire-" In addition to her anxious words, she fired a round towards the wall near them. "Who- or what are you? And why are you here?" Upon every slight twitch, she reiterated those words.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - Soliane Desari



The violet glow of her armor pulsed as she turned, slow and deliberate, toward the sound of a trembling voice and the half-wild snap of a blaster report. Dust curled from the stone where the shot had struck, but Darth Virelia did not flinch. She simply let the echo die, until only the weight of silence and the faint hum of her suit remained.

Her gaze, pale and neon in the dark, found the girl framed in the tomb's entrance. A fragile silhouette dressed in false bravado, weapon leveled, hands betraying their fear with every twitch. Virelia let her lips curl into something half-smile, half-snare.

"You announce yourself with thunder, yet your heart beats like prey." Her voice carried velvet and iron, a resonance that wrapped itself around Soliane's ears, caressing as much as cutting. "I wonder, little wanderer… do you even know where you stand? Do you know what this place is?"

She stepped closer, each motion unhurried, predatory. The air shivered faintly as arcs of violet lightning played across the edges of her gauntlets, not yet unleashed, but very much alive.

"Your shot missed by choice—or by mercy. But I assure you…" Her tone softened into an almost conspiratorial whisper, as though they stood alone in some perfumed alcove instead of a tomb. "If you sought to frighten me, you will have to try harder. Fear is the first language of this world. I speak it better than most."

Her eyes flicked over the girl with the indulgence of someone savoring a rare vintage, lingering not on the weapon but on the hand that held it, on the trembling pulse at her throat. She tasted the mix of defiance and terror radiating from her like incense.

"Who am I?" She tilted her head, letting her hood shift back enough for Soliane to glimpse her sharpened features, the faint gleam of black-lacquered lips. "I am the inevitable. The reason these ruins have teeth. I am the darkness you thought was only rumor."

The blaster wavered, just slightly, and Virelia's smile widened. She let her voice drip with deliberate, licentious weight, as though every syllable pressed closer against the smuggler's skin.

"And you, child… you are standing in my shadow. So tell me, do you truly intend to kill your first goddess?"

The last word lingered, hushed but drenched in suggestion. She let the silence stretch, long enough that Soliane would hear her own breath rasp beneath the mask, long enough for doubt to coil around her trembling aim.

Then, softer, with the edge of a blade hidden under silk:

"Lower the weapon. You will not leave this place by defiance. But obedience…" Her eyes glowed brighter, violet shards in the dark. "…obedience has saved lives before. Sometimes it even makes them worth living."

Virelia did not raise her hand, did not rush. She simply stood there, commanding, inevitable, waiting to see if the girl would bow—or break.

 

[Soliane Desari]

THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR WAY​

Location – Malachor
Objectives – Discover if the rumours about riches on Malachor holds true.
Tags – Darth Virelia


The unknown was always a greater terror than the known. Nigh every folklore or cautionary tale was based on what may be out there, yet nothing lay guaranteed. So when the shadowed figure finally spoke, stepping from the dark to show a face, her pounding heart eased. Gradually slowing to something steadier, though still running a tinge too fast. The adrenaline within her veins continuing to run rampant as her gunhand lightly twitched every second.

"You need not lecture me on the legend of this planet. Malachor is a haunted, cursed planet with only riches and death to await one." Soliane snapped back, her Chandrilan accent lightly glimmering through her words. "I did not warn you without reason. So stay where you are. Unless, of course, you're eager to test the limits of that metal armour you don." Her snarl left her as she fired another round, right between the woman's boots. A second warning.

Her gaze flicked to the electric sparks dancing at the woman's fingertips. Just her luck, another one of them. The last one had tossed her across the cobbled streets of Epica City, left her acheing for days after. And whilst that boy had shown a certain remorse for relying on such antics, a faint sense of knowing within her heart made it clear, this one would not be so empathetic. So as the figure began to utter delusions akin to a prophet, about herself being a goddess or a destined brutality, Soliane could not help snorting and giggling frantically.

"Well 'm'lady', I am but a humble scavenger. A scoundrel in the eyes of others." She feigned dropping her guard and made an impressive theatrical curtsy to the stranger. "Do you wish of me to kneel before you and kiss your feet?" Soliane then rose to her full height once more and aimed her blaster, straight towards the figure's chest. "In that case, I must disappoint you and decline your very charming offer." Another snort left her lips as she tried to peek into the corridor behind the woman, that must be where the artefacts were stored.

"Now since negotiations are still on the table, would you be so kind as to step aside and let me handle what I came here for?" Soliane's grin made it plain that she was utterly entertained by the whole affair, not a word on her lips being serious.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Step into the Dark."

Tags - Soliane Desari



Virelia did not flinch when the bolt struck stone between her feet. The energy hissed, casting sharp shadows up her armored frame, but her stance remained unmoved. Only her head inclined slightly, as though she were appraising a child's tantrum rather than a threat. The violet light of her eyes caught the smoke rising between them, and she let a low, amused sound slip from her lips — the kind of sound that could be laugh or purr.

"Twice now you've wasted your ammunition," she murmured, voice carrying like velvet dragged over a knife. "That tells me two things. First: you are no murderer. Not yet. Second…" She tilted her head, and the faint glow of sparks traced up her gauntlet, licking across her fingers like living veins. "…you are desperate to be seen as more dangerous than you are."

Soliane's curtsy drew a sharper smile, cruel and entertained. The girl had spirit — flailing, mocking, covering fear with noise — but spirit all the same. Virelia's gaze lingered as she stepped closer, slow and unhurried, savoring the moment as if she were stalking prey too amusing to kill outright.

"Do not mistake me for one of your market-square prophets or the gutter mystics of Epica City. I am not asking you to kiss my feet." She let the words linger, her eyes fixed on the trembling line of the blaster sight pressed to her chest. "If I wanted you on your knees, you would already be there. And if I wanted your lips…" her voice dipped lower, licentious, intoxicating, "…you would not dare deny me."

The tomb seemed to bend around her presence. Dust shifted at her step. The air thickened with a subtle pulse of power that was not yet an attack, but a promise of how quickly it could become one. She stopped just outside the length of the blaster's barrel, her armor reflecting its faint blue glow, her eyes boring into Soliane's with an intensity that felt like pressure against the skin.

"You call yourself scavenger, scoundrel, thief. Titles for someone who admits she will always take what others have left behind. But do you not feel it?" Her gauntlet rose, sparks curling at her fingertips, gesturing to the yawning dark of the chamber behind her. "This place does not reward scavengers. It consumes them. You are a child rummaging in a graveyard, and yet you think to bargain?"

Her hand hovered in the air, not striking, only circling with arcs of faint violet lightning that hissed with restrained hunger. Her smile sharpened, predatory.

"You want what lies beyond me? Step forward, then. Place your faith in that trembling trigger finger, and see if your courage can match your grin. But know this—" she leaned forward, close enough for her voice to be intimate, dangerous, meant only for Soliane's ears— "If you aim to disappoint me, little one, you will not be remembered as scoundrel or scavenger. You will be remembered only as a scream swallowed by stone."

She straightened, unhurried, and extended her free hand as if inviting Soliane to try.

"Decide. Will you be amusing… or useful?"