Ask Korriban Field Trip

Emryc Thorne

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The temple had been deserted for centuries, and yet it still held an aura about it. It drew him like a moth to a flame, beckoning him through the maze of the interior. The walls were narrow and he had to hunch to make his way through. He could smell the decay from the walls, and he had a flashlight to light the way.

There was a sense of dread as he made his way through. The treasures and coffins had been taken out or looted, but the Force still lingered here. This was the site of ancient purebloods and the old Sith alike. While the main tombs were restricted, this was a forgotten temple that could promise of untold histories.

He was here alone, and he heard nothing else. He was detached from the rest of the galaxy. He had done a lot of reading and calculations to find this specific location. It wasn’t known to the general public, and it was simply forgotten. He had to remove entire mounds of dirt and sand to even find the entrance.

Emryc made his way into the inner chambers of the temple. He could make out etchings and drawings all over the walls. The Force hummed here as if alive, and he felt it trickling up his spine. It was unsettling and welcoming at once. The temple knew a commander of the Force walked its halls, a man that walked the path of darkness.

He came across a platform that had the engraving of a dagger in it. He eyed it for a long moment, crouching beside it. He just so happened to have an ancient Sith dagger on him.
 

Ana DAmico

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It spoke to her. Every second on this corrupted world was like being immersed fully in a tank of freezing water. Darkness permeated everything on the planet, its corrupting influence chilling Ana to the bones. It promised her power beyond measure should she fully accept its corruption. She had been to this place once, long, long ago. When childish naivete thought to keep her beholden to the one who rescued her from her mundane existence. She helped reclaim part of this world alongside the man, but he was long gone, and she rarely thought of him.

For millennia, this was the throne of the Sith, and these sands had been stained with the blood of the unworthy over the years in the myriad struggles for power and control. The ancient Sith knew much, but their vision was short-sighted, their focus narrow and infantile. They couldn’t see beyond the raw emotions that allowed them control over the Dark Side, nor could they see their role as the equalizers in the galaxy, the agents of change. For all their power and glory, this dead world was one of their only legacies, and it was nothing more than a corpse picked clean by scavengers long, long ago.

She relied on many to guide her, to begin her insidious fall, but the galaxy had changed a great deal. She was alone, now. Forced to find her own way in the galaxy among an order that preyed on the weak. Though many of the risen Sith believed in their physical dominance, Ana knew better than to let such foolish notions blind her to the truth: knowledge was power. Even on a carrion world such as this, the secrets of the ancient Sith remained buried, ripe for plundering. She didn’t need any master to bring her here to steal its secrets; this kind of proscribed knowledge was something that needed a careful guardian.

Her studies directed her towards a collapsed temple, its entrance long since buried beneath the pale sun of Korriban. Finding it was simple enough, but finding it disturbed alarmed her greatly. Who had been here? Were its secrets already torn from those cyclopean halls? What manner of scavenger would desecrate such holy ground? The Force beckoned her to explore, to recall the history of those who once held the Force by its throat and conquered the stars. She ventured inside and made her way down the halls, occasionally being forced to her hands and knees to squeeze through collapsed tunnels. An invisible force guided her towards its inner sanctum, the faint whispers scratching at the back of her mind.

She was not alone, however. Ahead stood an intruder, someone foolish enough to defile this place with their presence. The darkness continued to claw at her, goading her into attacking the being before she could investigate. Its attempts proved futile, though, and she quietly approached from behind, moving with an unnatural fluidity across rubble and sand.

”Corpses should be left well enough alone,” she remarked, pacing behind the man, studying him. The being made no attempt to suppress its presence among the dead, allowing Ana to feel that he was no mere tomb raider, but rather something else entirely. Something drawn to these ruins, same as her.

”But something tells me you’re more than just a fumbling scavenger seeking ancient trophies.”
 

Emryc Thorne

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He could hear someone else in the tomb, but he didn’t look up just yet. He was examining the dagger he had, trying to fit it into the engraving. To his dismay, it wasn’t a proper fit. He internally cursed, exhaling in disappointment as he began to put the dagger away. He heard the woman speak and he simply brushed the dust off the next engraving. He didn’t bother looking up, engrossed in what he was doing.

“Lucky for us, there is no corpse here,” He muttered quietly, “This tomb was looted a long time,” Emryc leaned in to blow some of the dust away, revealing an inscription that he guessed to be ancient Sith, “And you knew that because you found this place. You would have found it only if you read the annals of the First Sith and in the extended archives,” He ran his fingers through the engraved inscription, “And you would have found out about this location specifically in one particular text because only a single copy exists in the restricted section of the library on Eriadu.”

He slowly rose to stand then, finally turning to face her. He didn’t meet other Sith that gave a rat’s ass about history. This had been a very isolated location, and it would have taken extensive research and interest to find it. Emryc stared at her for a moment before twirling the Sith blade in his hand. He presented it to her hilt first.

“Thoughts on where that might be from?”
 

Ana DAmico

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Ana smiled impishly at the man’s observation, tilting her head forward slightly in acknowledgement. This temple was long thought lost, though ancient tomes and half-wiped datapads provided clues that, when pieced together, revealed the path. The name of the Lord to whom this temple was dedicated was not clear; he went by many names, and the second- and third-hand accounts by which she found this place were not consistent. It was more by fortune that she managed to discover it, though rarely was luck involved when it pertained to the Force.

”And yet, here we stand amidst a corpse whose sun-bleached bones have long since been stripped of any meat,” she noted, approaching the platform upon which the mysterious man stood. She took the dagger and turned it over in her hand, studying its scratched surface. Curiosity twinkled in her eyes, the dim light by which they traversed these ruins illuminating parts of her face. Her brows furrowed and her mouth moved wordlessly, reading something etched into the weapon.

”Diâ wur: sas akai nayita diâ natiti muin Yini ti oim kaj zinota an tauz. Iw dtaisia snaâ zûtawoti Nu dizitji ri Ri wirhija na Dziu diâ zinoti anas Nu mio waryi,” she breathed out quietly, just loud enough for the man to hear. For all his many faults, Melkor had been prudent in ensuring his once-apprentice understood rudimentary amounts of the ancient Sith tongue. The rest was on her to study, and long did she meditate in the archive, pouring over old tomes and tablets to understand this ancient tongue. Her gaze flicked upwards at Emryc, then back at the dagger.

”And lo: by their devices and desires shall Chaos make itself known to thee. Of creations most foul I beheld the Lord of All and knew that I was dead,” she repeated, handing the weapon back towards him blade-first. ”A curious thing to say,” she remarked, ”I’ve no clue where it’s from, but it’s certainly a priceless relic.” While she waited for an answer, she turned her attention to the chamber. Dust had long settled here, and the sands of time had not been kind to the inscriptions lining the walls. She could have spent days in here studying every inch of this place in the faint hope of finding untold troves of knowledge, but the presence of this mysterious man put a wrench in those plans.

”I’m Ana,” she said, introducing herself, ”It’s rare to find someone more interested in our past than they are with slaughtering everything in sight. Where did you find that dagger?”
 

Emryc Thorne

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There was a glint in his eyes as the woman spoke. It was unmistakable, and he couldn’t control it. It was exceedingly rare for anyone to invoke that from him or to truly have his attention, but she immediately had both. She rattled off what the inscription said, and the translation. Emryc already knew it, but he hadn’t worked out the latter half of the phrase.

“Lord of All and knew that I was dead…” He repeated silently. He didn’t expect her to actually know where it was from, but she added pieces of the puzzles he had been missing. He watched her as she turned to inspect the tomb, her eyes drinking in all the drawings and etchings all around. The walls told a story, and simply touching the stone was enough to feel it humming with life. It was faint, as if a whisper that came from no particular direction.

The silence was peaceful, and truly sinking into the history here brought it life. He could see ancient pureblood Sith walking through these same paths and taking the time to paint along the walls. He could practically sense the Force that would have existed within them, and it was exhilarating to think that remnants of it could still linger today.

Emryc was pulled out of his thoughts when she spoke again. He found himself inspecting an etching on the opposite wall, and there were drawings of strange creatures. He dusted the debris away to look, wondering if these were the clues he had been searching for.

“Emryc,” He said simply, finally turning to face her as she asked about the dagger, “I found it on Devaron,” The dagger effortlessly twirled between his fingers as a faint grin graced his face, “I corrupted a Force nexus there.”
 

Ana DAmico

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The whispers scratched at the walls of her mind again. They were devilish and many; some promised unimaginable power, others promised immortality. More still promised nothing and simply demanded that she submit to their will. This was a place irredeemably tainted by evil – anyone who could hear the call of the Force could feel that. It thrummed with life and death, even millennia after the passing of its inhabitants. For them to leave behind such a powerful trace soothed Ana, since it meant that her quest for knowledge was on the right track. It was easy to grow disheartened when alone in such a galaxy, but that might have changed today.

Ana waved her hand towards a section of the wall, moving aside a layer of dust that trickled to the ground like a heavy fog. Again, her mouth moved wordlessly as she fumbled her way through the translation on the wall. It was a rough approximation, but she got the general idea of what it was saying. ”All power demands sacrifice... and pain,” she muttered, ”The universe rewards those willing to spill their life's blood for the promise of power.” Such little trinkets of wisdom made her giddy, and every second spent in this foul place helped her along on the insidious journey downward into darkness.

She turned to face the man as he introduced himself, bowing her head politely in response. He corrupted a Force nexus? She took a step closer excitedly, then halted herself, turning to face the dagger indentation, feigning aloofness. ”A vergence,” she said, suppressing a geeky smile, ”And you corrupted it by yourself? And recovered this relic?” She cast him a cursory glance, unable to see much in the dim light in the chamber. ”That’s- hkrm-“ she cleared her throat, ”How lovely.”

To distract herself, Ana gestured towards the engraving. ”It doesn’t fit the dagger, does it?” she surmised, studying the worn indentation, ”But… Perhaps it might not be for a real dagger.” She brushed aside some dust, revealing a small hole at the base of the indentation partially filled with sand and dust, then looked at Emryc.

”All power demands sacrifice,” she repeated, ”What if that’s what’s required of us here? Knowledge is a great power, after all…” she trailed off.
 

Emryc Thorne

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Emryc could tell his words stopped her in her tracks. His face didn’t reveal the smugness he felt. She would simply see his observant eyes taking her in, always cold and calculating. Always drawing in data from people and things around him. As she mentioned that he had corrupted it by himself, he had to close his eyes and exhale slowly.

“Alas, not by myself,” He admitted, not one to inflate incorrectly. He did it when it called for it. His mind briefly wandered to Renfry and the activities that followed. The thought ended abruptly there, attention focusing back on the fellow philomath, “A man that was not Sith had this blade and intended to corrupt it,” Emryc explained, “The blade had been trapped near the nexus and slowly poisoned it.”

He stepped towards the woman then, a glint in his eye, “But it was not the blade that was curious. It was the impact it had on what used to be humans around it. It warped them,” There was no denying the hints of excitement in his voice. It was one of the few times his silver eyes were vibrant with life, “It twisted them into something unnatural. They no longer resembled humans.”

Emryc reached into his pocket, bringing out a small tube. He held it up for the woman. Inside it she would see bits of tissue. Even though it was from creatures he had slayed in the cave, she would still see it angrily pulse and black blood seep through dead veins. It was not of this world, and it was a sick corruption of life.

But she would know what it was. It was something that hadn’t been molded or created in centuries. But it was possible with this dagger. Suddenly, it became clear why he was here, with this dagger, in this sample. Suddenly it became clear why the paintings on the wall related.

“Spilling our blood alone will not be enough,” Emryc said after a moment, “It will need ritual. It will need devotion. It will need true sacrifice,” He gazed into her eyes as he spoke, but he looked beyond her. He saw deep into his mind and the knowledge that rested there. He saw the Sith of the past and their craft. He saw untapped potential and the secrets of an ancient time that had been locked away for far too long.
 

Ana DAmico

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Ana looked at Emryc as he explained the nature of the Force nexus, its corruption, and the recovered relic. It was incredible! The effects of something so small on something so large piqued her interest greatly, and she would have loved to see the prolonged effects of the dagger on the alignment of the nexus before its corruption, or if the nexus might enhance the dagger’s natural affinity for the darkness in some way. It was a good thing that it had been returned to the Sith; the galaxy was full of those who did not deserve to claim their priceless artifacts for their own benefit.

The more he elaborated on the blade, the harder it was to conceal her fascination with it. Her venom-green eyes focused on the weapon as he spoke, regarding it with an intense curiosity. The blade’s ambient energy warped the humans nearby? She canted her head sidelong slightly, like a hound studying a treat. She’d read about something like this before, but the records that the Sith Eternal had were… sparse at best with regards to this particular topic. It had been at the top of her list of mysteries to uncover, in fact, and such scarcity of knowledge on these ancient and foul methods of corruption irked her greatly.

Ana raised a hand for a moment to interject when he fished out the transparent tube and held it in the light for her to see. She faltered for a moment, then slowly closed her hand, gazing at the tube in equal parts shock and awe. ”Is that…” she began, trailing off. She moved closer to the vial, tracing her eyes over the pulsing tissue. Even in “death,” the magic imbued in this flesh was incredibly potent, and she found herself entirely fixated on the oozing ichor shifting within.

Ana grew quiet and slowly panned her eyes up to meet Emryc’s, finding herself at a rare loss for words. In all her years of study, she’d never come across something so impossibly corrupt, so incredibly pure in Dark Side energy. Even if it was just a sample, it was enough to spark within her an insatiable desire to uncover more of its secrets, to infuse herself with the knowledge of the dark gods that once conquered this galaxy. After a few moments of total silence, she broke eye contact and looked around, suddenly understanding the gravity of the sanctum in which they found themselves.

The Force had brought her here, had brought them here for a reason, and it dawned on her what it was. They were walking a path trailblazed by ancient lords of unimaginable power. This kind of knowledge brought entire worlds to their knees and laid the foundations for an empire that held the galaxy by its throat, and it all began on this path. She traced the runes and paintings on the wall, studying the sigils and the etchings, drinking it all in, before finally stopping on the pedestal. ”A true sacrifice…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked back at Emryc and furrowed her brows, ”I don’t- what do you suggest? This place is devoid of life.”
 

Emryc Thorne

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He noticed she jumped right to the sacrificing part. It was entertaining to him, and he was glad she looked away for a moment. It wasn’t often that a genuine smile graced his face, but one pulled at his lips right then. He let her take her time to look at the pedestal and inspect it.

“Nesti stai tave pieces iv three, wo anas savi, tave wo anas rota, tave wo anas sanguin. Nesti zhol esk kraujas en fieri ir eikvoti je'as cup iv tave karuvis, He rattled off behind her, having read the Ancient Sith she could see partially uncovered on the pedestal. It also revealed that he had been able to read the inscription on the dagger and had simply kept that fact from her.

“I believe I only have one of the three pieces,” He said back in Basic, knowing within a few minutes she likely would have translated the phrase in her head. He stepped forth to stand next to her. He leaned in and brushed some of the dust aside, pointing at what looked like a half ruined engraving of a chalice.

“Cup of the first is needed and…” He sighed, “I’m not sure what 'the one that bleeds' means. There is no third engraving. The phrasing makes it sound as if it’s something specific so I doubt you and I simply cutting ourselves open will get anywhere.”
 

Ana DAmico

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Ana quirked a brow as the man read off the engraving in its true tongue, both surprised that he could speak it so well and amused that he was more than he appeared. It was a powerful language, one used in many rituals and practices of the ancient Sith. Force-imbued seals and other, darker rites often had a verbal component to them, and a dead language like the one they spoke was the perfect catalyst.

”Something that bleeds and the cup of the first,” she translated into Basic herself, musing on the puzzle pieces. They had the one that stings but were missing critical components of the ritual. She stared at the scripture for some time, tapping her chin in idle thought. ”The one that bleeds could be any number of things,” she said, turning to face Emryc, an inquisitive glint in her eyes. ”Are you familiar with the ramblings of the Dread Seer Khalos the Thrice Born?” she asked, pacing past the man to look on a different section of the wall.

Ancient carvings depicted simple-looking figures bowing before some kind of esoteric object perhaps no bigger than a human fist. ”He was thought to have lived around the same era as the construction of this temple,” she said, ”And… might have contributed in some way before being consumed by his own madness.” She gestured ambiguously towards the wall, then looked at Emryc. ”Daemonic fury bound into a shell of magical construction. A blood-token of… the unworthy, perhaps, or this Lord’s own life force. The records suggest that such an artifact takes an offering of its wearer’s blood and imbues it with dark magic.”

She gestured towards the pedestal and its inscription. ”It doesn’t just need blood, but the magic contained within, I think.” She shrugged and folded her arms across her chest, huffing, ”But that’s as much as I know. It could be anything,” she said, ”And Khalos was known for his elaborate network of tunnels connecting temples he frequented. He feared the sun because it was an agent of the Light, they say.”

A frown crossed her face and her brows furrowed as she considered the cup of the first, ”As for the vessel… I’m at a loss. We might find more clues elsewhere,” she said, gesturing towards the man, ”Unless you know more than you’re letting on again.”
 

Emryc Thorne

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Emryc listened to her ideas, not having considered those angles in terms of the first. His ideas had been that they were exclusively the early purebloods that hailed from Dromund Kaas. However, her theory held more plausibility even if it sounded like a stretch. He rubbed his chin in thought, letting silence hang for a moment as he thought about the different angles.

“The cup could very well simply be a relic from one of the early Sith Lords,” He thought aloud. People like the two of them had a tendency to be overly pedantic and could look for more complexities than existed. He had recognized that in himself some time ago, “Andraste’s drinking cup. Vader’s toothbrush holder,” He shrugged, “These minor objects only took on special meaning much later. However, it is true that Lord Kravos was closely aligned with abominations,” The mysteries and lure of his holocron were known to all Sith, “And his devotion was to Andraste. If this ritual has his teachings at all, that cup will have something to do with her.”

He eyed her curiously as she said the word ‘we’ to investigate clues. It left him slightly uneasy, making him wonder if she suddenly intended this to be a team effort of some sort. He glanced down at the dagger in his hand, twirling it between his fingers again. He weighed his options for a moment, looking from her to the dagger and then to the pedestal behind her. His eyes moved quickly, making subtle points of note and decisions.

“Well it was nice to meet you, Ana,” He said suddenly, “I hope our paths cross again.”

He spun on his heel and began to walk. She would know he fully intended to complete this ritual.
 

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Ana shrugged in response to Emryc. The different eras of Sith that controlled this planet had many fantastical and forbidden projects across the planet to hide their power away from the unworthy. It wasn’t uncommon for two historians to spend hours considering hypotheticals about what esoteric riddle meant what, and often these exercises ended with no tangible gain other than a migraine. She considered that the cup of the first could be one of the early Sith; after all, ‘the first’ had to mean the first Sith, right? There were few other explanations that made sense to her. The two continued to brainstorm in the darkness of the temple for some time until he went quiet, prompting her to do the same.

He shifted his gaze from the dagger to the pedestal and several other points throughout the temple, as if he were suddenly connecting pieces of the puzzle or trying to decide on something. After his musing, he bid her farewell and began to head out, prompting an offended gasp from poor Ana. Closed-off and conniving, like most Sith, it seemed. She’d let herself get carried away by meeting someone as interested in the past as her, and now he was walking away to do it himself.

Ana harrumphed and quickened her pace to catch up to and step in front of him. If he was going to be annoying, then so was she. ”You can’t just walk out like that!” she exclaimed, ”You’re clueless on the artifacts needed to unseal this place, together we at least might have a chance of getting anywhere!” She wasn’t sure if it was a mix of a burning desire to open these ancient vaults or a matter of pride that he was dismissing her entirely, but something impelled her to stop him from leaving.

That, or she was just trying to get herself stabbed. She hoped it wasn’t that part.
 
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Emryc Thorne

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Emryc was already mentally away from this tomb. His mind was fixated on what he needed to do next and where he needed to go. His thoughts were only interrupted by the rapid shuffling of movement behind him. Where he normally would have been suspicious, the Force did not alert him to any sense of danger. He only came to a pause when she scurried past him and stood before him.

An eyebrow slowly curved up at her words, his face displaying his sheer lack of amusement. Did she insult his intelligence to his face? The sudden urge came to grab her by her delicate throat and slam her across the temple. That urge was followed by slashing her throat open and draining her directly on the pedestal just to see if it did anything. Perhaps if he mixed in the abomination sample it might do a trick.

Externally, however, he simply exhaled and blinked at her. He had more tolerance for her simply because she was a breath of fresh air from the normally uneducated neanderthals that made up the Sith ranks. Unfortunately, she also looked as if a well angled fart could topple her over.

“I don’t play well with others,” He said softly, his face and eyes betraying none of the whirlwind of thoughts that ran through his mind. He couldn’t deny her value and knowledge on an endeavor like this. He considered his options before speaking again, “We can leave in my ship,” He started walking again, slow enough this time for her to keep up.

“Just don’t get in my way.”
 

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Ana prepared very much for the man to lash out at her violently. After all, she did willfully insult him in an attempt to get him to stop, a maneuver which seemed to have worked. High risk, high reward, she supposed. He doesn’t play well with others, she mused, finding the concept more novel than anything. Of course he didn’t play well with others; no Sith did. Since the dawn of the first Sith to the era of the Sith Eternal, they were founded on the principle of “might makes right.”

That had not changed, but it was foolish to think that any of those great Empires of the past came to power by a loner with a lightsaber. So long as you were strong, you survived. There was strength in unity, she came to understand. Talak’s desire for a united Sith Empire was one kernel of wisdom that she took strongly to, and she believed in it, though they differed greatly in the means to achieve that dream. Not that it mattered anymore.

”Wonderful,” she cooed once he offered up his ship, but said nothing in response to his vague warning. She simply smiled to herself and walked alongside him, satisfied. The trip through the temple was easier going out than it was in since the combined light they had illuminated more of their surroundings. As they walked – or, at times, squeezed – she took a moment to take in more of the ruined decorations and engravings, drinking in the rich history of just this one place. Her mind drifted to the other unexplored ruins of this world, to the vast libraries of knowledge buried beneath the red sand. Even thinking about it made her giddy, and she wondered if the brusque man alongside her shared in that kind of enthusiasm. He was learned, sure, but closed off, like most of the Eternal were.

She thought about trying to strike up conversation as they journeyed but elected to remain quiet for now. She revealed much about herself in their brief meeting, something she should have been more mindful about. It was refreshing finding someone who wasn’t entirely a luddite, so she figured she got caught up in the excitement of it all. It was curious, though; for all the order’s secret roots, so few were interested in the history of their people. Did they not want to emulate the gods of their past to rise to glory, or were they content with just… wanton violence? Questions to muse on as they walked.
 

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---​

“You must be on some kind of Ryloth spice to think that Barnabus the third could trace his lineage back to the Drasts,” He hotly fired back at her, pausing in the middle of brushing his teeth. He actually came back out of the refresher to continue the argument. She had only been on his ship for a bit and already managed to get under his skin. He had come out of his room, spotted her, and they had already jumped into a debate.

“His second cousin twice removed was a kriffing Rodian,” He scoffed, “Do you think any kind of Drast during the Imperial Republica would have allowed that? They set up base in the Core worlds in case you forgot, He walked back in to rinse out his mouth before walking back out, “And then that Rodian also happened to go on to be part of the foundation of the Syndicates. Barnabus was just a loud voice and I can’t believe you got caught up in that fad belief.”

He glared at her. He was wearing the clothing he slept in, a loose fitting shirt and sweats. He hadn’t even hopped into the shower yet, entirely too furious and worked up over the travesty that was her line of thinking.

“Next you’re going to tell me that Lily Solus ended up as Mand’alor,” He scoffed.
 

Ana DAmico

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Ana groaned at Emryc’s retort. She was found lounging on top of some crates, scrolling through a datapad, when the man came out. Still not entirely over his rude dismissal of her back in the temple, she decided to fire off some controversial opinions to work him up. Every good historian loved a fun argument, especially when it got the kind of outrage that Emryc was displaying. Was she being a dick? Well, yeah, but so was he. The day had barely started and they were at each other’s throats, yelling about this anachronistic piece of information or that wrong lineage.

”Ooooohhhhhh myyyyyyy staaaaarrrrsssssss,” she quietly groaned as he continued his tirade, ”The Drasts had so many children and inbreeding in its family tree that, by that era, it might as well have looked like a plate of Klatooinian slug salad. You seriously can’t tell me you honestly believe the poodoo you’re spewing right now.” She tilted her head back, looking at the man upside-down while he brushed his teeth. With a huff, she rolled her eyes and lifted her head to resume scrolling through the datapad in her hands.

”And anyone who’s read anything past The Imperial Children’s Primer to Galactic History, she continued, looking back at him as she mentioned ‘anyone,’ ”Would know that Lily Solus ended up fading into anonymity after the whole Mand’alor the Mad incident. The infighting that resulted from the betrayal of his clan leaders fractured the entire empire for decades. Do you think she’d want that mantle after it ended with her mother’s death, homeworld’s razing, and father’s insanity and galactic purge of Force users?” She gave a little laugh, then shook her head.

”Of course, I’d expect someone who believes Empress Andraste actually left behind a holocron to believe any other impossible theories,” she spat back at him.

This argument was probably going to last a while.
 

Emryc Thorne

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Emryc rolled his eyes, “The Imperial Children’s Primer was under hot water for having shoddy sources to cite,” He spat back, “Do you live in a hole where you missed that news?” He wanted to blast her out of the airlock.

“Well clearly she didn’t have a sense of responsibility like her parents,” He huffed, “Koil Solus abandoned the clan and Leandros went crazy. Solus all but collapsed so Raz’s death ended up being for nothing,” He rubbed his chin for a moment, “I bet you didn’t even know there was a scandal with her and a Jedi back then,” He snickered. Very few people knew about that tiny little nugget that Mandalorians went out of their way to cover up.

Emryc grew annoyed at how much she was enjoying this with the way she casually lounged on the cargo crates. He used the Force to pull her towards him just the slightest bit. The action would tug her just enough to give her that terrifying feeling of weightlessness and probably make her topple backwards off the crates because her torso slid off. With luck she would land directly on her head and with the datapad slapping her shortly after.

He leaned against the doorway to the refresher, his tone suddenly serious, “Andraste did leave a holocron.”
 

Ana DAmico

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Ana was about to deliver a biting response to Emryc’s retort when suddenly she felt her body quickly shift towards Emryc. With but a millisecond to respond, she quickly rolled her body over before she hit the ground. She braced her shoulder for the impact and grunted softly when she landed, raising her head to glare daggers at Emryc. For a moment, she thought about responding to the jokester with a shove of her own but thought better of it; it was his ship, and she’d rather not have them break out into a real fight over something so harmless. She pushed herself up and dusted herself off, collecting the fallen datapad.

”Oh, she did?” she responded questioningly, ”Then how come, in the seven millennia since her death, not a single Sith has found it? There are no records of it ever being in the Order’s possession, as far as I’ve read. I’ve scoured hundreds of datapads, books, and scrolls looking for even a hint of it. Nothing.” Her brows furrowed, shaking her head dismissively at the man’s ridiculous claim. She sat back down on a crate, rolling her shoulder a few times. Little prick.

”There are rumors, sure. Maybe it’s in her tomb. Nobody’s ever managed to get in and find it. Why do you believe she left something behind?” she tossed back at him. There were few items in the galaxy more precious than an ancient Sith’s holocron, and, if Andraste truly left behind a relic like that, there was no telling what the lengths some people might go to in order to find it. Ana herself would scour the ends of the galaxy if she knew it was out there, but it just seemed too unlikely for nobody to have found any sign of it in over seven thousand years. Even Kravos' holocron was a known item of interest; it was just damn near impossible to survive the trials needed to get it.
 

Emryc Thorne

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Emryc stared blankly at her as she situated herself back on the crate. He found the way her feet hung several inches off the floor to be surprisingly entertaining. Suppressing the urge to grin, he kept a straight face as he heard the expected skepticism from her. He had heard this before, he had believed it himself for a while.

He crossed his arms over his chest, analyzing her for a moment. Despite all her skepticism, she had asked why he had believed it. It was a thread of curiosity instead of the complete wall she had put up before. Emryc couldn’t help but have a grin form on his face then.

“History defines the Sith Code as her legacy,” He explained, “But her Holocron was something much closer to her. Something much more personal,” This held true for many holocrons, “Do you know what else hasn’t been found? The Kravos holocron and the Evandrus audiologs. No one found anything on Andraste because no one did the legwork to get the artifacts of those closest to her,”

Emryc started walking towards her, “Don’t you see it? It’s so kriffing obvious and no one ever considered it.”
 

Ana DAmico

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Ana swung her legs idly, her mind focused on what Emryc was saying. She was skeptical because she knew that, despite the fact that she revered the ancient Sith as gods, they were flawed. Narrow visions of the future and an inherent pull towards infighting always meant that the Sith, no matter its iteration, would one day collapse in on itself, and history proved that over time and time again. As Emryc spoke, she considered the fact that, just as nobody had ever claimed Andraste’s holocron, nobody had ever taken the relics of her lovers.

His words made sense, and she nodded along in understanding as she came to realize the nature of Andraste’s holocron. ”Everyone who’s ever gone after either of those have died,” she remarked, ”But they weren’t worthy of that knowledge. If someone were to recover them, then they might lead to the prize – Andraste’s holocron.” She mused aloud, still sitting on the crate. Occasionally her brows would furrow, and she’d chew the inside of her cheek, having some fast-paced, internal argument with herself.

After a few moments, she looked up at Emryc as he approached. There was a predatory gleam in his eye, but not for blood; he longed for ancient knowledge, just like her. It was why the Force brought them together in that temple, even though they had done nothing but butt heads since the start. ”Seven thousand years, and yet not one person has claimed any of those precious items,” she said, ”And yet, we keep hunting them like moths drawn to a flame.” She set the datapad down beside her and planted her hands on the crate, glancing around the ship for a few seconds.

”Find one, and the rest will make themselves known. That’s your goal, isn’t it?”
 
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