Ask Thule me once

[Karys]

Set between Karys’ reawakening and his arrival on Korriban in Why.​

For another day Karys had been trapped, floating in the bacta tank while doctors checked on his wounds. The only company he had was the occasional visit from his apprentice, Vossari and his thoughts. Had Azar truly abandoned him after the Kaggath? Could it have been a nightmare? If it was, why wasn’t he here? Karys knew this line of thought was futile. Azar had said their paths led in different directions.

So if this was a nightmare it was a waking one.

Eventually, Karys was allowed to leave the Bacta tank for the majority of the day. He still had to return to it to rest at night but this was better than nothing. Karys found himself covering his chest and abdomen to avoid looking at the remnants of hideous burn scars that had ruined his body. He felt sick, confused, time lost, and directionless.

His care staff had directed him to spas and masseuse lounges to help him relax. But none of it worked. Karys couldn’t get his mind off of Azar and the conflicting emotions within him.

And then summons came.

Darth Tempest had called for him. The last they met on Trokien hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. Karys had been assigned to clean up Param’s mess and he did so using Azar and his plan. They payed the Hutts their spiced tea and human capital but cut them out of the mines all together. After all, it was unlikely the Hutts would travel this far across the Galaxy, right?

Apparently, they’d been wrong on that front.

Karys unfortunately didn’t have much in the way of clothes to meet with the Dark Lord. He had to settle for his robes and hope it would suffice. He wore the vambraces she had gifted him as well. Then Karys made his way to the Temple his Kaggath had taken place as was bidden. Once he’d reached the antechamber, he walked down the same steps he’d limped down three weeks ago. He came to the center of the room and dropped to a knee before the black throne. There was no struggle to do it now, it was a smooth and easy thing. A testament to the treatment he’d received.

“My Lord, I’ve come as you called.” He stated calmly, trying to push down the build up of anxiety in his gut.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Darth Tempest could be generous to those who’d earned her favor. On multiple occasions, Karys had demonstrated his skill and abilities to contribute to the Sith Order - and it earned the Pureblood Champion the finest treatment available in the wake of his Kaggath.

While the Exile had been promptly ejected from the complex, Karys had been moved to the upper wings to receive medical care. Royal physicians and droids had taken care to treat the worst of his injuries and horrific burns, leaving the Pureblood with only a small series of scars that marked his chest and arms. Days were spent in Bacta tanks and reconstructive surgery, while lavish quarters were allocated for the rest of his time spent in recovery. Even the robes left for the Champion were brought by the Priesthood of Thule, fine Zayd-cloth embroidered with Ur-kittat scripture along its hem and sleeves.

It was a testament to the favor that Karys had earned for himself. The fruits of his labor - and a stark contrast to how failure was treated within her Order. It was a reminder of everything that the Champion had to lose.

As per usual, Tempest had taken to occupying the Black Throne situated at the end of the chamber - flanked on either side by ancient, Sith chalices. Wisps of smoke curled into the air and framed the Dark Lord of the Sith, the scent of Korribani incense filling the nostrils of Karys from the moment he arrived. The walls were decorated with scripture and prophecy, pedestals erected to depict the Lords of old. Thule was a highly religious and ceremonial society, and no more was that apparent than their grand temple.

The Dark Lord was adorned in her signature regalia - casually reclined within the seat. The remains of Cremek had been properly disposed of, along with the corpses the dozens of Mandalorian warriors he dragged to their demise. Their weapons, however - Beskad, blasters and all manner and arms - were displayed on racks at the edges of the chamber.

“You have recovered well,” Tempest said - her voice echoing across the chamber as Karys dropped to a knee.

 

[Karys]

Darth Tempest’s voice echoed through the room, Karys didn’t lift his gaze initially. Had he recovered well? He had been alone the entire time, Azar had abandoned him. Karys felt his jaw clench at the realization. He let it go, he couldn’t dwell on that right now.

“I have my Lady.” Karys replied calmly. “Thanks to the medical care afforded to me.”

A thousand questions danced in his mind. Why had she summoned him? He knew a summons like this didn’t happen for no reason. Darth Tempest wanted something from him. He’d have to navigate this situation carefully.

“How long have I been in the bacta tank?” He asked after a moment of silence.

Karys began to pick up the scent of burning incense in the silence that followed. It was vaguely familiar. It reminded him of the herbs sorcerers and prophets had burned in his father’s house. But there were subtle differences, this incense had unfamiliar spices added to it to create an altered scent. The smoke was lighter and more pleasant to inhale. It wasn’t Ziosti, but it was from his culture.

When he was finally bid to look up, Karys would allow his eyes to drag across the prophecies and Mandalorian weapons. Promises of the future were accented by the price of betrayal. It spoke of power and punishment, Karys couldn’t help but wonder if this had been set up intentionally.

“How can I serve you, Darth Tempest?” He asked, his golden eyes turning to the Dark Lord at last.

@Altaris