Unbalanced Forces

[Amz]

Chiara had found her way to Cadinth on the rumor of ‘profits to be had’. On such a historic world that once was part of Xim’s Empire, she supposed that talk of great ventures and profits was to be expected. What hadn’t been expected, was the talk of these profits being made off of dark objects...Sith objects. While it was not her place to judge others motivations or understand choices some may or may not have felt forced to make, the idea of it all made her bristle.

Sith relics were dangerous and certainly didn’t belong in civilian hands, or the hands of anyone, for that matter. Deciding to check it out, she’d ventured on her own to discover the truth of these rumors.

The work of a Jedi was never done.

If there was any validity to these whispers, then the reasonable course of action was to remove the item and destroy it, before anyone could get their hands on it. Being so close to Sith space, she had the good sense to exercise caution, but, there was also more to it than that. A feeling through the Force warned her of a coming storm, and Chiara decided to forgo wearing her Jedi robes entirely.

Normally, on missions such as these, she may have felt guilt in not in not looking the proper part. She was perhaps more old-fashioned in that sense, and truthfully, in many. But in this instance, and in the current state of the Galaxy, she did not wish to wave any flags or draw attention that she might not have necessarily wanted.

Instead, she looked like any other dusty traveler fresh off the spaceport, her lightsaber securely hidden in a secret compartment of the brown satchel slung over her neck.

While she was much more heavily inclined towards healing, Ilias had done well in teaching her that a Jedi always needed to be prepared for any situation. Conflict was inevitable, one's own preparedness for said conflict, was a choice.

Walking away from the speeder she’d rented, Chiara took the moment to glance about at her surroundings. There was nothing she could see, but miles of black sands and the shadow of an ancient stone structure of worn down sandstone carved into the desert mountains.

The wind howled through the long-abandoned structure and she could see signs of deterioration against what might have once been smooth stone, now cracked and crumbling in certain areas. The walls may have stood the test of eons, but Chiara knew there was no guarantee of her safety going in. Yet, she would. She had to.

Going forward, she climbed up the weathered steps of the entrance.

Times were dark, but she would purge what she could.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Chiara Viren"]

The exterior of the temple might have been abandoned and lost.

The interior?

Different matter entirely.

By the time she was three-fourths up the stairs she would hear the voices. Voice. Singular. It was low, hard, heavy, but with a bit of a scratch to it. As if the holder of the voice had once been choked for a prolonged amount of time. Maybe with a wire. Either way. The rasp was there and it only accentuated the heavy accent the holder spoke with. It might even have been a bit intimidating... if not for the contents of the voice.

"Ya got to be kidding me, brejin, we be explorin' dis place for hours an' now ya tell me we may be wrong?" Exasperated and maybe two shades of annoyed. By the time that Chiara found her way to the top she'd see the source.

Julian was sitting in one of the alcoves.

Scribbling in a notebook, legs crossed, brows furrowed.

But it didn't really look like there was anyone else around. "Mah friend, if ya think we gon' be wandering 'ere for another three hours, ya be joking ya self." For now Julian didn't seem to have noticed Chiara yet. But the way he sat, it wouldn't be long, if she was moving around a lot. Right now he seemed focused entirely on the scribbling in his notebook. Drawing something, by the looks of it by memory.