Post by Harukei on May 3, 2019 12:00:00 GMT -5
Dromund Kaas was the living heart of the Empire. Even from the distance anyone attuned to the Force could perceive the shifting currents of power coursing through the deep crust, the thick brush and jungles and even in the beasts that roamed and preyed away from the Imperial Settlements, away from the cities of the Empress and her Inner Sanctum. Life, corrupted as it was breathed from throneworld and its energy permeated the worlds within the core of Sith Space.
But as much as Dromund Kaas was rife with life and bustling with activity her sister on the other hand was nigh devoid of it. Like many worlds from the antiquity of the Sith Empires, Dromund Fels was an arid rock with craggy mesas, high peaks and cold deserts that battered the littered ruins that held ancient lords entombed with the whisper of ancient spirits that had forgot whom they had been in life buzzing in the mind of those that were weak willed. Whatever activity was still in this world was of its predators, or the expedition crews that risked life and limb on ancient crypts and shrines that were more willing accumulate more inhabitants than to open up the treasures that their originals occupants had left upon their passing.
It had been sometime since she had set a foot on this world. Each step bringing back the whispers of the death and the crunch of rust colored sand beneath her feet. Cold wind flapped about the robes and clashed against the plates of light armor that would indicate that the Keres that was in this planet was but a lord and not the Dark Lady of the Sith. An entourage of other four members of the Cult of Mysteries walked with her, of similar height and built, wearing armors that were nigh identical and they even replicated her steps with a precise detail as to continue the reality that had taken root ever since her ascension. They were all Keres.
At last, the Sith Lady and her entourage stopped, their eyes falling on an encampment at the feet of shrine faded by millennia of sandstorms. Tents were torn, crates from supplies and water spilled about as if someone had pushed them over. Blaster marks had been burnt into stone and durasteel. Bodies were sound found, scientists lay dead with a terrorized expression, guardsmen crumpled as holes and slashes were punched unto the plastoid armor, droid made scrap after something had hacked them and melt the plates and cabling until they had turned into a pile of scraps.
"Someone's here." Keres, the real Keres heard herself speak, her voice distorted by the voice filter of her featureless silver helm. "Wait here, salvage what you can. I will deal with the interloper, myself."
She said as she placed hands behind her back. Climbing the steps into the blasted stone that had once been the gate of the shrine and moved inside, her head up display indicated her the fall in temperature, but she could feel the dampness in the stone, the cold biting the skin and flesh of her hand through the glove. And as she took more steps, she noticed the echoes of power of someone that dabbled in the Darkside, but hadn't fully committed. No other Sith Lord would do this. This was her domain and to steal from her would be like to steal from the Empress herself. A Fallen Jedi perhaps? An acolyte that had lost favor? She would soon find out.
As she entered a large room, she took a moment to look upon the carvings on the walls, depicting ancient battles and executions. Ancient rituals and displays of power, as well as the statue of a masked and armored Dark Lord. Vases of aurium so old it looked like unpolished copper, coffers that contained precious gems and old relics met her in a corner, whilst at the other, desiccated corpses of the slaves that had build the tomb for their master laid against a wall. But that gruesome fact didn't matter as she found her interloper.
"Greetings." She told to the figure that seemed to be a woman. "I will be taking that lightsaber now."
But as much as Dromund Kaas was rife with life and bustling with activity her sister on the other hand was nigh devoid of it. Like many worlds from the antiquity of the Sith Empires, Dromund Fels was an arid rock with craggy mesas, high peaks and cold deserts that battered the littered ruins that held ancient lords entombed with the whisper of ancient spirits that had forgot whom they had been in life buzzing in the mind of those that were weak willed. Whatever activity was still in this world was of its predators, or the expedition crews that risked life and limb on ancient crypts and shrines that were more willing accumulate more inhabitants than to open up the treasures that their originals occupants had left upon their passing.
It had been sometime since she had set a foot on this world. Each step bringing back the whispers of the death and the crunch of rust colored sand beneath her feet. Cold wind flapped about the robes and clashed against the plates of light armor that would indicate that the Keres that was in this planet was but a lord and not the Dark Lady of the Sith. An entourage of other four members of the Cult of Mysteries walked with her, of similar height and built, wearing armors that were nigh identical and they even replicated her steps with a precise detail as to continue the reality that had taken root ever since her ascension. They were all Keres.
At last, the Sith Lady and her entourage stopped, their eyes falling on an encampment at the feet of shrine faded by millennia of sandstorms. Tents were torn, crates from supplies and water spilled about as if someone had pushed them over. Blaster marks had been burnt into stone and durasteel. Bodies were sound found, scientists lay dead with a terrorized expression, guardsmen crumpled as holes and slashes were punched unto the plastoid armor, droid made scrap after something had hacked them and melt the plates and cabling until they had turned into a pile of scraps.
"Someone's here." Keres, the real Keres heard herself speak, her voice distorted by the voice filter of her featureless silver helm. "Wait here, salvage what you can. I will deal with the interloper, myself."
She said as she placed hands behind her back. Climbing the steps into the blasted stone that had once been the gate of the shrine and moved inside, her head up display indicated her the fall in temperature, but she could feel the dampness in the stone, the cold biting the skin and flesh of her hand through the glove. And as she took more steps, she noticed the echoes of power of someone that dabbled in the Darkside, but hadn't fully committed. No other Sith Lord would do this. This was her domain and to steal from her would be like to steal from the Empress herself. A Fallen Jedi perhaps? An acolyte that had lost favor? She would soon find out.
As she entered a large room, she took a moment to look upon the carvings on the walls, depicting ancient battles and executions. Ancient rituals and displays of power, as well as the statue of a masked and armored Dark Lord. Vases of aurium so old it looked like unpolished copper, coffers that contained precious gems and old relics met her in a corner, whilst at the other, desiccated corpses of the slaves that had build the tomb for their master laid against a wall. But that gruesome fact didn't matter as she found her interloper.
"Greetings." She told to the figure that seemed to be a woman. "I will be taking that lightsaber now."