Ziost - Crown of the Sith Empire

An armored and helmeted figure; of short stature; arrived to where she had been summoned. It had, in fact, been the first place she'd visited upon her return to Ziost, after the space port itself that is. One had obligations, after all. Appearances to keep up. It was only proper that such things be observed. Especially when one could claim success in one's assigned mission.

Proper. Expected. Required. Improper. Irrelevant. Suggested.

Beneath the mask, she smiled. These conversations were always entertaining.

The honor guard did not react at her approach and the door slid open revealing a dark chamber with a central dais and the small hunched form of Darth Arya waited.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, rasping and strained as she said in her raspy tone, “Lord Nyx, come closer. You will forgive this old woman for not rising to greet you. What brings you to my laid this day, wisdom?”

Xyll entered, and removed the mask from her face to reveal; to those that could actually see that was; a big grin.



"Perhaps," she said with almost child-like amusement as she came closer, "and word of another success on your behalf. The artifact you requested has been secured, though I'm sure you already knew that, master."

She looked upon the old crone, wondering if her time was approaching sooner rather than later; or if it was all just an act. Not that it mattered much to Xyll, either way. Unless the crone died before holding up her end of the bargain.

"These errands do keep me busy, but I wonder if my time is not better spent elsewhere."

She laughed and coughed in equal measure and then said, “The ambition of youth.”

“So tell me how to best put your meager skills to use?”

Xyll too, laughed at that joke, and then her smile turned ever so slightly more wicked.

Insolence!

"You know what I am, master. You know what I desire. Is my power to grow, digging in the dirt on outer rim planets with barely a name to them? Can I truly serve you and the Dark Side properly with what meager power I wield now?"

“You have my protection and you have found my trinkets to suit my vanity,” she said cackling lightly.

“If you seek more power, it could be yours, but you would not be the frist to grasp beyond their reach,” she warned.

“If you feel you are ready then there may be a task for you, to help recover what power you used to have.”

"Indeed, many seek power beyond their reach. I know of such folly. Usurpers and schemers of many kinds, and those who would beg for the Emperor's scraps in the hopes that they might sit with those far their betters, to act as if they are their equals instead just because they were given a title."

She paused, looking about the room, then back to Darth Arya.

"They are fools who have never grasped true power, and likely never will. I am not them. I will not play such games only to burn away the stars and myself along with them. But that true power? The power that is rightfully mine? *That* I *will* grasp for. And if not now, then when?"

She smiled brightly again, voice almost turning child-like for a moment, almost giggling; "Do you not feel I am ready, master?"

She cackled and then said, “What shade of black are you, Lord Nyx?”

“We will test your mettle with a simple task, on Korriban is a mad man. He will judge to see if you are ready. He does not stay at the Academy, he lives in the wastes, Spindral will judge if you are ready. Bring him the relic you brought to me, I have no need of it, but it may be of interest of him.”

She smiled with crooked teeth and bleeding gums and said, “Do as he asks, and if he tries to kill you, kill him first.”

"I've always preferred red. It matches my eyes. But as for this Spindral, I will seek him out. And as you say, kill him if he attempts to kill me."

There was a pause.

"Is there a time-frame within which I am to be expected there? Since I find myself without the immediate use of a ship of my own, I shall have to arrange other means of transportation. I would not wish to disappoint my would-be judge and executioner."

Darth Arya coughed and then said, “Spindral has little need for schedules, he is old… he is patient. To a point.”

"Of course," she said, smirking. Age was a terrible thing, it seemed. For some more than others perhaps.

"And what of the days to come here? Many whispers abound about she of Secrets and Mysteries. What words of wisdom does she impart to but *one* of her apprentices? Lest she step where she should not, lacking her master's foresight."

She offered a terrifying smile, “All gifts have a cost, the darker the gift the higher the cost my loyal… ally.”

She giggled, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you sound as if you're worried I wasn't. But I have served those far more skilled at betrayal, right up until their very violent ends. I would be a fool to try and repeat the process. Especially when you are yet so far from having taught me all you can. As I would be a fool for not knowing the concept of cost. But are the costs and gifts yours, mine, or perhaps the subject of some of those whispers?"

“When you know the answer to that my child, then I will have truly nothing else left to give you,” she said softly.

She sighed heavily and then added, “Betrayal is coming, I have foreseen it… the blood is already in the water… the air. Will you be betrayed or the betrayer, we shall see, we shall see.”

"Or am I to be neither? Is this vision centered on me? There are, after all, many predators on this world. And many prey."

“The vision centers on the Empire, you are not so powerful yet that you obfuscate all others,” she said reaching out for her walking staff. It flew to her hand and she rose with great effort.

Once on he feet hunched and leaning heavily she offered, “I wish to see my garden.”

She hobbled past slowly.

She chuckled and the thought of being so powerful as to obfuscate all others. Now *that* would surely be something. A vision of betrayal centered on the Empire, instead. A betrayal important enough to warrant the crone's attention. Xyll considered asking for more details, but once mention of the garden was made, the moment would seem to have passed.

She followed along in silence after the unspoken invitation.

She walked, more of a hobble really, slowly and added, “Is this Empire an Empire worth dying for, little child?”

Xyll followed the slow pace with respectful patience.

"It is not now. But it might yet be," she answered. "When it resumes the crusade, perhaps. Part of me would be eager to finish what we had started."

“How long have we been trying to finish what we started?” the old crone said in response.

“Defeating the Jedi may not be enough.”