For weeks, Tempest had worked from the solitude of Fortress Vader, laying the foundations for her covert mission to Tanaab. It was not so long ago that the Sith Order would’ve lacked the resources necessary to carry out such a large-scale operation, but months of diligence had begun to finally pay off. Members of their Order had worked to acquire hidden assets across the Galaxy - filling their coffers and allowing the Dark Lord to escalate the scale of their operations.
All the while, Tempest continued to receive reports from across the Galaxy - the majority seeming to detail the questionable actions of her followers. The recent killing spree within the Corporate Sector threatened to expose their Order to Galactic scrutiny, and the offending parties had already received orders to return to Mustafar to await punishment. However, it was not their penance that Tempest lingered upon.
Rather, it was the actions of Azar Kresh that had captured the Dark Lord’s attention.
His involvement on Zygerria - serving to not only avert the crisis caused by his colleagues, but further cement Sith control over the entire Slave Empire - had pleased the Dark Lord beyond measure. It demonstrated a skill and finesse that was in short supply amongst their Order, and only validated the potential that Tempest had previously seen within the Pureblood Champion. And it was for precisely that reason that he had been chosen to accompany her for their current, sensitive mission.
But it was not the Dark Lord who greeted Azar upon arrival to Mustafar.
Instead, the Pureblood would find nothing short of the finest treatment waiting for him. A small army of attendants and droids ushered the Champion inside, guiding him towards the luxurious quarters and comfortable robes that had been allocated. Sunken baths - scented with fresh herbs and perfumed - were freshly drawn for the Champion, allowing him to completely relax after his journey. Tables were filled to their limit with expensive food and wine, to indulge upon until Azar had his fill.
It was clear that the Dark Lord was pleased with his recent accomplishments, and it was only a taste of what she had to offer those who proved themselves valuable.
It was only after several hours - enough time for Azar to truly unwind and relax - that Tempest beckoned the Pureblood to join her within the Fortress. Abandoning her throne room for the evening, Tempest opted to greet her guest within the expansive library that had been carved into the lowest levels of Fortress Vader, closest to the caves and Dark Side locus that had originally drawn the Sith to the planet.
Each and every wall was lined with rows of books and ancient texts, holocrons and scrolls from a bygone age, alongside pierces of art that decorated the corridors in between. Sith chalices burned with Korribani incense at the corners of the main chamber, casting wisps of fragrant smoke high into the air. Much of it had been expanded during the reign of Darth Veles, and Tempest had no qualms with claiming the collection for her own.
Amongst the towering bookshelves and burning chalices, Azar would find Tempest with her back turned to the entrance - both hands knitted against the small of her back. The Dark Lord kept her gaze fixated upon a handful of books spread across a table, written in the very same text Azar had been born to.
“I trust you’ve found accommodations to be suitable?”
All the while, Tempest continued to receive reports from across the Galaxy - the majority seeming to detail the questionable actions of her followers. The recent killing spree within the Corporate Sector threatened to expose their Order to Galactic scrutiny, and the offending parties had already received orders to return to Mustafar to await punishment. However, it was not their penance that Tempest lingered upon.
Rather, it was the actions of Azar Kresh that had captured the Dark Lord’s attention.
His involvement on Zygerria - serving to not only avert the crisis caused by his colleagues, but further cement Sith control over the entire Slave Empire - had pleased the Dark Lord beyond measure. It demonstrated a skill and finesse that was in short supply amongst their Order, and only validated the potential that Tempest had previously seen within the Pureblood Champion. And it was for precisely that reason that he had been chosen to accompany her for their current, sensitive mission.
But it was not the Dark Lord who greeted Azar upon arrival to Mustafar.
Instead, the Pureblood would find nothing short of the finest treatment waiting for him. A small army of attendants and droids ushered the Champion inside, guiding him towards the luxurious quarters and comfortable robes that had been allocated. Sunken baths - scented with fresh herbs and perfumed - were freshly drawn for the Champion, allowing him to completely relax after his journey. Tables were filled to their limit with expensive food and wine, to indulge upon until Azar had his fill.
It was clear that the Dark Lord was pleased with his recent accomplishments, and it was only a taste of what she had to offer those who proved themselves valuable.
It was only after several hours - enough time for Azar to truly unwind and relax - that Tempest beckoned the Pureblood to join her within the Fortress. Abandoning her throne room for the evening, Tempest opted to greet her guest within the expansive library that had been carved into the lowest levels of Fortress Vader, closest to the caves and Dark Side locus that had originally drawn the Sith to the planet.
Each and every wall was lined with rows of books and ancient texts, holocrons and scrolls from a bygone age, alongside pierces of art that decorated the corridors in between. Sith chalices burned with Korribani incense at the corners of the main chamber, casting wisps of fragrant smoke high into the air. Much of it had been expanded during the reign of Darth Veles, and Tempest had no qualms with claiming the collection for her own.
Amongst the towering bookshelves and burning chalices, Azar would find Tempest with her back turned to the entrance - both hands knitted against the small of her back. The Dark Lord kept her gaze fixated upon a handful of books spread across a table, written in the very same text Azar had been born to.
“I trust you’ve found accommodations to be suitable?”