Log:Sith Empire: The True War

The Empire learns from Revan.

OOC Date: February 1, 2025
Location: Jungles, Onderon
Participants: Revan, Merulia, Ban Iskender, Tytos Wrex, Qar-duun, Bors Thul, Lynoriel Thrace, Tamsin Cas, Aryn Cortess

The journey through the jungle took hours. Despite technology and speeders, the terrain practically made all of it impossible to use. Blaine, the herald, explained, "You walk upon hallowed ground. It was here the Mandalorians suffered major defeat during the Mandalorian wars. The terrain is this way from the orbital bombardments. What Bellam is today rose from the ashes of this crater." The crater was jagged with rocks, shrapnel, and remnants of an age dating back 4,000 years.

"Why do the Revanites conceal themselves?" Darth Kalus asked as she stepped over a rock and nearly twisted her ankle. She found her balance, and tested weight on her foot a few steps before resuming normally.

Blaine answered, "We are concealed to preserve the truth. It was Revan's wish that knowledge pass on, but in order to be passed, it must first survive. We hide because we must. We survive because we must. The Revanites have always believed in something.. broader."

The group has not quite made it to the temple, they are walking through the jungle and an ancient battleground beneath the shadow of an oppressively humid and hot jungle. It is nearing evening.

No word of commentary or complaint escaped the mask that his Achlys identity. They moved as was necessary. Scaling over roots, avoiding pits, keeping a wary eye, as much as one might assume, their helm turned this way and that as they tracked through the jungle, following the footfalls of the so-called Revanite. There were words, and then there was proof. They have been given one, but not the other. And whether the latter would follow the former remained to be seen. for now, Achlys simply proceeded along the path, marking their way, and the life that had grown up in a seeming attempt to make scaling the distance as difficult as possible.

Darth Durandus had picked his way through the broken terrain and pesky foliage with stubborn patience. His Sith mask was a minimalist human face, with a single tear below the right eye, and though he had rumbled skepticism at the start that an order of hermits could truly carry ancient knowledge from Revan, once their path was chosen he kept to it without further word. His booted foot rolled at the ankle as broken rock shifted beneath his step, but balance was caught quickly, and no sound of pain or anger was made. Onward he trudged.

Qar-duun, too, listened keenly as he bathed in his element. Hostile jungles? Three for breakfast! Mosquitoes the size of your forearms? Barely a hitch in his step! He marches proudly, chin aloft at an angle that practically dares Dxun to personally throw something at him. Whip-quick and decisive with his machete, he puzzles over secret orders and accurs'd artifacts in silence beneath his mask. Like a pig in mud.

Thrace has hiked through the jungle without a complaint. She's used to these sorts of climates and wearing black is not something that she gets away from a lot. What distracts her though is the crater that they see. She crouches, letting a gloved hand run over the ground softly as she looks at the impact area. She's being quiet and careful, so not to disturb anything as the Revanite speaks.

Captain Tytos Wrex wasn't built for these treks across wilder country. Not in a long time, anyway. These days he's most comfortable standing vigil against the enemies of the Empire upon the bridge of a warship. The opportunity for a victory tour of sorts couldn't be passed over, however. Which is precisely why Captain Tytos trudges beneath the jungle canopy and through the undergrowth. He's at least wise enough to keep himself tucked in close to the Sith and does his best not to make an utter fool of himself. His uniform will require extensive maintenance upon his return to the Enforcer. For now he endures the travel with his chin up and in feigned utter ignorance of the state of his dressed uniform, while ever wearing the stern scowl that he so often wears while seeing to his duties as a naval officer. He's wise enough to keep foolish questions from his tongue, too. 'How long until we get there?' 'Are we there yet?' While perhaps thought, are mercifully kept from having a breath and suffocate within his own mind.

Their trek does not take much longer. As they go down into the bowl of this crater, the outer edges which they traversed and slowly made their way through looked more like mountains. Lynoriel's scan of their surroundings revealed a lot of charred geology indicative of the remains of orbital bombardment. The impressive pressure of combustion paired with incredible ordnance created glass-like residue, sand, and jagged shrapnel metal.

They arrive at the ruins, a modest building upon the surface made of charred rock mined from the devastation of eons past. The stone door has shut, but much like the hidden caches and vaults stored throughout the galaxy by Sheev Palpatine, this one required a particular key to open.

Blaine raised his hands, and the others who were attuned to the Force could feel his power. There wasn't anything in this galaxy that could simulate the power of the Force. It was distinct as it was potent. With hands raised, he triggered the opening of the door that slowly parted. The noise was akin to stone dragging over stone, and it sounded heavy. Oddly enough, the wildlife did not come near this place. When the stone quit moving, it was just eerie silent.

Blaine brought out a torch from inside and moved his hand over it. By the time his hand had reached the top of the torch, fire erupted, and he held the torch up. "This way."

There were other torches the team could use if they desired. The temple took them down a long set of stairs and into an interesting corridor that ran underground. Without light, this catacomb would be a maze of death. The floor was stone, and surprisingly clean. The air was cooler, /much/ cooler, and lacking the humidity of the jungle. Blaine led them through the corridor and eventually into a large viewing room. The room itself was designed as an auditorium of sorts with stone seating at every side. At the center of the room, a pedestal, and upon it a collection of artifacts tied to Revan. The most prominent item present was a tall, pyramid shaped violet holocron. Blaine waited for everyone to come inside.

Kalus had claimed a torch at the entrance of the ruin, and performed the same technique as Blaine, bringing the end of the torch to life. She was not certain if this was some part of a ritual or not, but she did it anyway and followed, staying close to Durandus as they moved into the darkness.

The descent into the crater was as silent as the trek through the overgrowth, silent, observant, critical. When the way into the temple was revealed, and the group beckoned to proceed, Achlys did not take a torch, the light of those who had already chosen to light their way more than enough to allow them to see. And if it kept both of their hands free, that was all to the good. The meeting room was, likely as not, aa welcome relief from the oppressive heat and humidity of the land they had just escaped, but this was no pleasure room. Functional. Useful, for the purpose for which it had been created.

Ban Iskender came from a chill, arid world in his youth; the warmth and humidity of the jungle was not missed when it gave way to the colder air of the austere underground. Durandus did not choose a torch, both gauntleted hands remaining open. The forefinger of his right hand tapped idly at the pommel of his lightsaber, considering whether to bare a more steady light source, but ultimately he walked in the wake of the light cast by the torchbearers ahead, falling into step behind Kalus and beside Achlys.

Qar-duun, impressed by the use of the Force, attempts it? Although he can harness Telekinesis as well as any, there's always a match that refuses to light, isn't there? And as his peers watch, doubly so. Ty-pi-cal. For a moment he looks as though he might use Tytos as a striking-surface, but restrains himself and lights it "the pedestrian way," all in silence. Frustrated, embarrassed silence...

Thrace's gloved hand breaks off a little of the melted glass and debris. Depositing it into a pocket to take back to Wiccus and the other Sith alchemists that might be able to look at it. Plus it was nice to catalogue things. She rises to her full height when that is done and follows others into the temple quietly as she walks behind Tytos for the moment.

The trek leads to the long lost temple and while Captain Tytos is as much a member of the viewing audience, he remains ever on the periphery of such historic matters. He had survived and thrived through many decades and been witness to many momentous occasions throughout those years. This would be yet another. Perhaps one of the greatest, if not ever, then for a very long time. Even if he doesn't truly grasp how significant this temple or its history may be.

Inside he collects a torch for himself and he holds it toward Kalus, nodding toward her while he holds his own torch aloft in clearly seeking to light his from her own, "Darth Kalus, if I may, please?" He holds the torch there, awaiting one lit torch to bring his own ablaze.

Thank the Maker. It's cooler here. Already the sweat that has began to soak into the uniform of Captain Tytos Wrex begins the process of drying and the officer gives his cap a little adjustment. Should his torch be lit, then he proceeds somewhere near the center of the pack of wanderers. Some victory parade he's invited himself into. Someone aboard the Enforcer who handles gathering details for important meetings that the ship's captain should consider attending? Would be facing a demotion and significant repercussions for this blunder.

Despite such things, Captain Wrex seems willing to make the most of it. To rub elbows with the Sith, in all their grandeur and significance, is of course an important step in climbing the ranks of Naval Command. Familiarity and rewards often go hand-in-hand.

Captain Tytos doesn't draw the blaster pistol that's smartly holstered at his side, but he does move a hand to rest near it. Just in case.

Suddenly, the holocron upon the pedestal rose up of its own accord, rotating like a puzzle until a blinding violet light erupted from its center and the device divided, refracting light beams from its source to project a life size image of Darth Revan. The female that stood before them was shorter than any reputation might have stood them, with narrow shoulders and thin arms. Her clothing was a combination of robes and armor fused, with a hood that hung partially over an old Mandalorian mask, its visor a thin line with a glowing red pulsation on one side.

Revan locked her arms at the small of her back beneath a tattered cape, which emphasized the presence of two distinctly different lightsabers clipped to her belt and hanging at her hip. When her voice finally broke the silence, it was conveyed through the mask and amplified, some how retaining the accented female tone.

<"I am Revan.">

For a holocron, the personality matrix that was captured was sophisticated. It seemed aware that there were more than one addressing it, thus the vestige looked upon each as if it could see them. Blaine, her Herald, took a knee. "Lord Revan."

"You have fulfilled your purpose, Herald. -- My message must be heard."

As the holocron activated, and the specter of the Sith past presented herself to the gathered, Achlys' helm tilted only the smallest amount, before straightening. She took no knee, nor offered any word of greeting to the technological specter. It was clear they had come to listen, and there was no need to speak unless spoken to. This was clearly not the time, and perhaps, they were not the intended audience. So, again, they simply waited in that continuing silence.

Ban Iskender observed in silence as the pyramidal artifact radiated purple light and projected an image than named itself Revan. Unseen behind the mask, both brows raised in slight surprise; it seemed the hermit spoke true. Unexpected. Playing the part he thought the explorers were meant to occupy, Durandus invites, "Then pray: share the words that have waited so long."

Qar-duun watches in silence behind his mask, spreading light at his assigned position. There are indeed moments that can steal his breath! 'Mission accomplished,' some might say. Whether he's decoding the pictograms in the flagstones or reading the text on the holocron, none can say...

Thrace steps up beside Tytos when the holocron activates. She wasn't convinced that they hadn't been lead down here for some sort of trap, but nothing had came up...yet. Revan was of course a Legend. Hopefully one stuck in carbonite somewhere. That's probably too much hope though. She's just an Acolyte so OF COURSE she doesn't address the holocron. For the moment she stands silently and watches the shadows that are cast around them from the torches.

Tytos stands beneath the glow of his torch that he holds high to spread the illumination that it offers. Upon entering a peculiar chamber and the contraption at its center twisting to reveal violet light, only for a large hologram to spring to life and begin speaking. Tytos spares only a brief glance to the Sith around him. He may be the captain of an Imperial warship, but even this seems well above his paygrade. The best thing for him to do is to simply blend in, remain attentive, and not draw attention to himself. Therefore he does precisely this. He remains still and alert, only sparing himself a distraction to take in his surroundings, and eventually turn his attention back to the hologram. He awaits its message and with a glance to those more esoteric minds around himself, he awaits their response or commentary regarding the nature of it all.

"As you wish," spoke the specter from the past answering Ban's bid to share its message.

"The only logical place to start is with a story. In my age, I began my journey as a Jedi learning the ways of the Force. When I was a Knight, the Republic suffered an invasion of the Mandalorian crusaders. An overwhelming and brutal regime of highly trained killers with a fundamental belief that they worshipped conquest and war. Devoted to their path of destruction, they set upon the Republic and succeeded on every front. Each world a new tactic in naval arrangement and dispersion, each conquest upon ground a new tactic for the text book. World after world fell to their conquest."

"The Republic sought the help of the Jedi Order. Our Knights arguably stood a better chance against them in the field, and we had scholars and ample history of war despite our pursuit for peace. The Jedi refused the call for help."

"I defied the Order and assembled a group of Jedi Knights willing to go to war to save the Republic. Together, we devised strategies that required much from us. Knowing what worlds to sacrifice to gain better footing in a different system. Our Republic allies were poorly equipped for conventional methods, so we had to be unconventional. I knew the only chance we had to survive the invasion was to find them, and kill every single one of them we could. We needed to kill them until they grew tired of the killing that they left or admitted defeat. Unfortunately, retreat was not an option for them. Our battle concluded at Malachor V. I destroyed their Mand'alor in single combat, then we detonated the planet sacrificing a great number of our fleet, but the blast wiped out their entire fleet."

"The Mandalorian threat was defeated. -- In order to avoid obliteration, our fleet blindly jumped to hyperspace and arrived in a system within the unknown regions of space. It was here that my life changed forever.."

Revan shifted, showing a very human personality embedded within the vestige that was projected. "We had come upon a world with a sizable orbital ring. Objects numbering hundreds of million seemingly occupied space around a planet teeming with /one/ life form. As we sought refuge and hope of repair, we only discovered one thing."

"Death."

"Those objects orbiting the planet were not rocks or space debris, but an infinite fleet collected from civilizations dating so far back our computers could not source the origin. They moved and were captained by an entity that is every where at once, a hive mind. We engaged after being swarmed, but my fleet was consumed the moment it got to close. Mini-ships rammed us, boarded, and began to consume my crew. This was not some beast race, but an ancient entity with a united purpose to consume and spread. We did the only thing we could do; the one thing the Mandalorians refused to do. We retreated. Abandoning ship we left in what crafts we could and returned to known space with a mission. Before departing, the entity told me it would consume the galaxy, that world by world, it would conquer until all that remain was death and its singular purpose. No more wars need be fought, no more power struggle, no more life. It would wipe us all out, and that would be the end. The Mandalorian wars had prepared me for one thing, the true war. And I needed an infinite fleet to answer the call."

Darth Kalus remained silent, hands quietly locked her back whilst she listen to Darth Revan tell their story. A realization had dawned upon her face when she found similarities Revan shared with an entity she, herself, had encountered upon the fringe. Though she thought she knew what Revan spoke of, she did not voice it yet. Thinking there might be more to the story, she shared a glance with the others and found a seat on one of the stone benches that align the auditorium.

Blaine remained silent, watching the others for their reaction.

Achlys listened in, yes, silence, as the story was told, and the tale recounted. A shift in their helm as they looked towards Kalus, offering, again, an incline of the head, a gesture not of camaraderie, but of understanding. They did offer, into that seemingly endless silence, a few words of their own. Or nearly so. Still modulated. "It may or may not be that we are speaking of the same threat, but some of us have faced an entity which sounds much like what you describe. A world consuming parasite, that takes over its hosts and consumes them, then walks within their bodies seeking only the next body to consume. A single consciousness that consumes all it touches. A thing that only fire may kill."

Ban Iskender knew many of the broad strokes of Revan's fame as a Jedi hero turned renegade, but the bulk of what this echo of life from millenia past told them fell squarely between the cracks of those two known states. Though few could tell, his eyes had shifted to Aryn's when Darth Kalus had glanced among the Sith. He added on the heels of Achlys' descriptor, "Fire.. or the crystal light of a saber." He went silent at that, curious as to what the ancient image would say of this need for an infinite fleet.

Qar-duun frowns, audibly. "Then move our center of operations to Mustafar. Make armor that protects the vitals but also displays skin to the environment-- layers of protection against the infiltration of such creatures can be enacted."

Lynoriel's interest in these events has her focused in for the moment. The line of Thrace started with a Jedi Master from the same time as Revan, so it was very exciting to get to see something from the past in the present. "It sounds like a virus." she states quietly as her crimson gaze looks to the others.

There's nothing that Tytos could add to such a declaration. It's ancient history and even as a student of it, it far surpasses the knowledge that one such as himself may possess. A furrowed brow is all that he offers in answer, though his attention remains keenly set upon the hologram.

"Yes," Revan declared, the volume of her voice laced with passion. It was the sort of passion that stemmed from understanding. Achlys was acknowledged with a nod and gesture, then Ban. Qar-duun's objectivity in finding a solution against the threat also acknowledged. "Yes," she echoed again, more emotional then. When Thrace spoke of it being a virus, the specter shook her head no. "Not quite. The entity, in its base form, is an oily sentient ooze. It spreads by getting upon the skin, traveling through pores, and consuming its host from the inside out. What I discovered is that this entity is sensitive to the Force. It could harvest memories. I, myself, had used such techniques to master languages in my age, drawing out the knowledge from a person's mind using the Force to connect us. In achieving this harvest, the entity would assume the identity of the host and seek out those close to them. Only to spread its parasitic form to those, and so on."

"When I returned to known space, I researched the infinite empire and discovered a means of creating a fleet of unequaled prowess. An infinite fleet of our own. Through the star forge, I began to churn out ships, war droids, and directed the Jedi and soldiers who followed me on their own conquest to prepare the galaxy for war. While I did not have a timeframe or reference to know when this entity would invade, I knew that preparing the galaxy for the invasion was our best chance of survival."

"Unfortunately, the Jedi Order thought my campaign worthy of their intervention and disrupted my efforts. They purged my memories of this encounter and manipulated me into fighting the very people I entrusted to carry out this crucial task. Unknowingly, I pulled apart the Empire of unity needed to survive, and only after my mind was returned whole did I discover that our hopes were dashed with the destruction of the Star Forge."

"I sought other means of slowing them down. We employed Centerpoint Station, creating the great rift between known space and the outer unknown regions. We were not certain if the entities had used hyperspace travel, but we knew that by creating a void, they would not be able to travel a great distance without running out of power. It became a matter of time, the one enemy I could not defeat."

"Many of us have come to know this enemy as the Mnggal Mnggal. What you speak is true, and many fringe colonies suffer the infestations of their fleet as they slowly make landfall upon known space. We have tried to destroy and contain it, but it has been purely reactionary. With no context to origin, or how to destroy the whole, we can only fight what we see." Kalus says, concern etching upon her features. "And sadly, Centerpoint has moved itself from known space, its AI unshackled. It sought survival during the campaign between.. former factions, and disappeared once I freed it. A regret I now have.."

"If Centerpoint Station remains, a concerted effort would need to be put to determining its location." No comment was made to what use the station had been put in recent times. That, at least, Achlys offered, before she looked away from the specter and to the so-named Revanite. "Why come to us now? When such a threat has been known to this time and this part of the galaxy for many years?" A few decades at least, "What was the tipping point?" As responsive as the specter might be, it was only a technological echo of an ancient individual. Blaine was not.

"Great the pity then, that some few have begun to bridge that chasm of eons," Ban voices in a steady oration. "Some present have faced this foe of whom ye speak. Scattered dooms to fall upon far-flung worlds, ere facing eradication." Yet the nobleman did not speak from comfort. 'Hundreds of millions of ships' was a statement that had struck Durandas, and troubled him still. "Minor moons and isolated worlds at the edge of the unknown have been purged with fire and death. If that is but the first finger of what is to follow.." His masked gaze turned toward Achlys when she spoke to their guide, eyeing the hermit in turn, afterward.

Qar-duun lapses into silence, no doubt searching his conscience and experience for possible bulwarks against 'annihilation.' No solutions emerge. Breathe in, breathe out.

Thrace dips her head to Revan when they explain. Something they'd have to look into. She is quiet while taking in the information that is going around those gathered. A look is given to Tytos to see if his eyes have glazed over yet or if he's still with them.

While the hologram and the portents it delivers is of critical importance, it doesn't prevent Tytos from glancing aside to regard Lynoriel. The look she sends his way results in only the slight upward twitch of a lone eyebrow. Then he remembers who he's giving it to. One doesn't look to a Sith as though they've been caught staring or wearing their lunch on their face. He nods slightly, almost imperceptibly. Then Captain Tytos's attention turns ahead once more to continue hearing out the discussion of their impending or potential doom. He's armed with a torch and a blaster pistol in his holster at the moment, so at least from his perspective things feel relatively safe for the moment.

Hovering near the rear of the pack, helmet off and monocle focused on the goings on, Lord Thul observes... As he has for quite some time. With little working knowledge of these historical events and the matters of sorcerers as they were.

Centerpoint, at least, holds some interest but he keeps his mouth shut. No, Bors does not pipe in. He did not nod off with his eyes open.

He was quite familiar with the entity Kalus mentions, expression twisting up some into something akin to being asked he had something so crass as -currency- on his person.

Why now? "Unity." Revan answers cryptically. "I had to convince my enemies that there was a true war. When they saw it with their own eyes, they understood. Alas, our efforts could only slow the advance. All of this took the combined culmination of my brightest leaders, Master Meetra Surik, and Admiral Erchirion Tor. Encoded within this holocron and other artifacts are their contributions and verbal notes from our campaign." Revan offers, her arm and hand gesturing toward the pedestal.

A face in the crowd, still painted in her Nightsister markings and garb woven of dyed banespider silk, Merulia had listened in silence. The legends of battles in this time, they were folktale told by some of the mothers passed down through spoken word, legend and story from those who had stood beside the Sith army.

Eyes watching, her gaze drifts to the holocron in quiet ponderance of what it might contain.

Blaine expanded on Revan's cryptic answer. "What the Dark Lord means is that we needed a galactic power that was definitively in control of the galaxy with the capabilities of defending it. You possess the technological means, and the manpower. Now, you have the knowledge."

"Something does not ring true here." Achlys voice, modulated or nor, did not shift in inflection. "The specter speaks of enemies, implying that we are the enemies of the Revanites. You claimed we were not. So which is it? And while the information may prove to be useful, why do you believe we would accept you as allies?" They might as well ask the questions that need to be asked.

"Unity," Durandus voices before drawing a slow breath. "The eternal chase and ephemeral end." Those few words spoken, Ban fell silent. Lost for a moment inhis own thoughts, he glanced to Kalys, before his attention was drawn back by something Achlys was saying to the hermit.

War with Rebels, war with these things.

"War unending."

He goes where ordered, not where he prefers - but Bors does listen. Especially when Achlys begins questioning, brows lifting while still managing to keep his monocle in place. How does he do it? Skill? Practice.

He's just a better sort of person, that's all.

Thrace doesn't scowl at Tytos. The look on her face is quite serene actually. There is a dip of her head to him before she looks back to the holocron. Maybe she was just weirdly checking to make sure the Captain was alright.

One may never know!

Tytos stands imperiously. Maybe it's foolishness, maybe it's simple bravado. Posturing as though you own the room, planet, or galaxy while surrounded by Sith. Despite it all Captain Tytos Wrex executes it well, even while holding a torch aloft. His expression remains grave and the mild scowl that he wears is directed at the hologram, not his allies and compatriots around him. It's clear that he's taking much of what he's hearing with a significant grain of salt.

"An apt question, though the enemies Revan referenced are dust. Throughout history, the Revanites had many enemies. Sith, Jedi, Republic, Imperial..our purpose remained the same. Survive."

"In this age, we are not your enemy. We share a common cause in protecting the galaxy. We would bolster your forces because Revanites.. are everywhere. Places of political power, low born, high born, soldiers, pilots, conquerors, and scholars. Our purpose today is to share what we know. I was honest when I said I am not your enemy. -- Unity is what is required." He bowed his head to show deference to Darth Achlys.

Merulia 's thoughts are kept within, but Achlys' question does have her looking over in thought, perhaps silent agreement. It was worth pondering, considering, that the Sith, Jedi, the galaxy of a millenia or more ago might look the same in some places...but very very different in other ways. Trust a Dathomiri to know that evolution and adaption was always a rule of existance.

"There is no dichotomy of the Force, there is simply the Force. I was left to trust in its will, and it brought balance despite it all. Believe what you will, but take these tokens and use our knowledge. It is all we ask." The holocron shuts off and lowers back to the pedestal. The image of Revan dipping her head before fading from view as the light withdrew and darkness took over. Only the flames from the torches remained, casting an eerie orange glow over those left.

"Common cause as you see is as may be. But whatever we decide here is not what will be done. That is for the Empress to decide. But I believe we can promise we will review the information you have provided." Achlys was, if nothing else, unfailingly honest, "But know that the Empress is unlikely to take action based solely on a word bond." As the specter spoke, Achlys' helm turned to watch it disappear back into its holocron. "Much as you are a herald, we are as well, in our own turn."

"Knowledge," Durandus voiced after Achlys, "Ought never be unwelcome." He nodded in assent when she promised only to review what had been gathered and held his peace as to the Empress' motives. "We speak of a thing millenia in coming. None can know when that foe shall arrive and I daresay the Empress will need little persuasion to seek a stronger, more unified galaxy." Unseen, a small smile touched the masked Sith's stoicism.

Captain Tytos glances toward Achlys with her answer and he almost nods in agreement. Almost. His chin begins to dip, but he freezes. For all he knows the entity within the strange box is listening or watching, ready to lash out at someone such as himself for acting or speaking out of turn. As a result Tytos remains still, attentive, and silent. Again he glances toward Lynoriel. He considers the Sith for a moment and then with a glance back toward the other Sith gathered around him, he shifts his torch from his right hand to his left. All the better to reach his blaster should the need arise, but in truth the movement of the torch is likely little more than to instigate their talk of leaving.

Neither does he offer commentary on the cooler temperature and lower humidity within the temple. If it weren't for the likely apparitions, grotesque monstrosities lurking in the shadows, or who knows what else he'd probably be more inclined to stay for a little more time to enjoy the more pleasant temperatures. Alas, all of those things and more could surely be dwelling in some dark alcove.

It for this reason that Tytos's expression darkens and his bold green eyes turn to regard his surroundings, seeking out some sudden ambush or newfound threat. He finds none of course, but part of his duties are being vigilant to the needs of and threats against the Empire.

Thrace turns her attention back to the form of Revan that was speaking and then there is a look to the others when they are done. When they go to leave, she sticks behind the group, more for the time to take a knee on the way out and collect more of the shards of glass and metal shrapnel. This would make an excellent addition to her ores that she was going to use to forge her saber.