OOM: Taking a Third Option

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

It is time, Dzoun tells her. Time for her to meet the Master of the Revanites. Ibani is more than a little nervous, although she does her very best not to show it.

She's surprised when the tent she's ushered into contains a holotrasmitter rather than a person. An image of a man in Sith armor appears on the transmitter and begins to speak, his tone bombastic. "You who have died and been reborn - stand before me now! You who have reclaimed the ancient past - stand before me now. You who have demonstrated power and wisdom to my followers - look upon the Master of the Order of Revan."

"This is the end of your initiation and the beginning of your true journey. You will walk the path of Revan forevermore. The enemies of the Order will force you to move in shadows, but we shall keep your secrets safe - as you shall keep ours. The time for subterfuge is over. Know me for who I am."

The holoimage vanishes and a woman suddenly appears in Ibani's vision. Her skin and hair are dark and she wears elaborate red facial tattoos.

"You're not what I was expecting," Ibani says.

The Master smiles. "The ruse serves its purpose. Besides, it felt appropriate - Revan's own gender is unclear in many of our records. I apologize for not meeting you sooner, but you know how badly the Dark Council wants me dead."

Ibani nods. "You are a threat to everything they stand for, to their power."

"Indeed." The Master invites her to sit and Ibani does so. "What do you know of Revan's fate?" Another Revanite enters the tent and places a tea tray between them, leaving before Ibani can even get out a 'thank you'.

"He came here, to Dromund Kaas," Ibani replies, picking up her teacup. "Where he perished, perhaps at the hands of the Emperor."

The Master nods. "That is the tale we tell initiates, that is what is commonly believed, but I do not think it is the truth."

Ibani startles at that, nearly dropping her tea cup. "What?"

"I believe Revan overthrew the Emperor and has sat secretly on the throne for three centuries. Aside from our order, only the Dark Council knows the truth."

Ibani splutters. "But, how? If Revan is the Emperor why would they be hunting his followers? That makes no sense!"

"The Emperor has been in seclusion for decades, the Dark Council no longer speaks with him. I believe the Dark Council has betrayed their leader and locked Emperor Revan away; seized power for themselves. They seek to silence us because we know the truth!"

"It would be like Sith to seize power," Ibani allows. "Even to keep the Emperor as a figurehead to keep rivals from going after them." She's still skeptical that such a thing could be true, but she's wary of letting her doubt show in front of someone like the Master.

The Master nods. "My agents tell me that you met with a Sith named Sandor - a man who seeks to destroy the Revanites," she says, tone calm as she sips her own tea. Ibani freezes a little, confirming the truth of that statement despite her intentions otherwise.

"And yet I still live," Ibani replies, tone unnaturally still and calm.

The Master regards her serenely, offering no comment.

"I was trying to find a way to save myself and the Cult," Ibani explains, desperately hoping that she's going to survive this. "The only thing I could think of would be to frame someone else as the Master, someone Sandor would not dare to question."

The Master chuckles. "Indeed. A clever plan, and one I had in mind as well. I Foresaw your coming to Us and made certain preparations." The Master reaches for a synthleather bag in her robes.

Ibani represses the urge to laugh in hysterical relief. Not only is she going to get out of here alive, but someone else has figured out the part of her plan that had eluded her! "What is that?"

"An amulet I 'obtained' from Darth Charnus," the Master replies with a smirk. "Give this to Sandor, tell him you took it from me."

Ibani's mind is afire with the implications of that statement. "You're going to frame Charnus for the position, Sandor's master! He won't dare question Charnus about it, in case this was a test of his loyalty to his master. And if he tells anyone ELSE he'd be executed along with Charnus. He'll either stop trying to find anything or he'll kill Charnus himself."

"Indeed," the Master replies. Then her expression turns sad. "But after you see Sandor, you must not return to Us. You must walk the path of Revan on your own."

"Because I will be watched, as long as I live," Ibani replies, tone bitter and a bit hurt. She's finally met people who think a bit like her in her own universe and she can never see them again without risking their torture and death!

"Yes," the Master replies solemnly. "You will walk the path of power without Us - the path neither Jedi nor Sith. But the Force will be with you, and it will make you strong."

*****************************************************************************

Ibani is solemn as she makes her way back to Kaas City, back to Sandor. Time to take a third option.

Sandor is eager to see her, pleased that she has news so soon.

"You return from having your ears filled with lies by the Revanites. I do not envy you the experience. Tell me now: Did you find what we need? Did you see the face of the leader?"

"I got a token from them," Ibani replies, handing him the bag.

Sandor looks a bit disappointed. "Well, perhaps that will be enough. A symbol of rank, or affiliation." If she hadn't been looking for it, she would have missed the micro-expression of fear on his face as his Master's symbol is revealed.

"Do you know this amulet?" he asks, glancing back at her.

"I've never seen that before," Ibani replies, truthfully. She knew she kept that in the bag without looking at it for a reason! She can see him weighing his options. She seems ignorant, and killing her might bring unwelcome attention from Lord Zash. And the last thing Sandor wants right now is attention from other Sith.

"Yes, yes, this will do," he says, dropping the amulet back in the bag. He nearly shoves a cred stick at her. "From my own accounts. You have done well, but I must take my leave. So much to do....."

Ibani nods politely and takes her leave, but inside she's grinning like a shark.

OOM: Giant Killer

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Small, subtle things in her body language tell Ibani that Lord Zash is very excited about something when she summons Ibani to her office.

"The time to do the deed is now, apprentice. Skotia is in his chambers as we speak. Oh, I wish I could be there to see the contortions on Skotia's malformed face when you destroy him."

Khem Val grins, pleased with their mission. "The little Sith and I will feast."

Ibani nods in acknowledgement, careful not to show her nerves on her face. "And where should I meet you when the deed is done, Master?"

Lord Zash smiles. "I will be at a party at Darth Vowrawn's Estate. I've taken the liberty of sending you the address. I look forward to our success, apprentice."

'Our' success. Well, Zash's life is on the line as much as hers is. If she fails, no one will ever believe that Ibani's master wasn't involved in this little plot. Ibani takes her leave, drawing a force cloak around Khem Val and herself. She sets her nerves to cortosis as she approaches Skotia's chambers, channels her fear into a blade against Skotia and all his kind.

Skotia's office is the same grey durasteel and columns as the rest of the Citadel, enlivened only by banners of Imperial scarlet. He sits at his desk, his bodyguards flanking him as he goes over data of some kind. Whatever Skotia's flaws may be, extravagance and laziness are not among them.

Skotia senses her before the bodyguards do, his eyes snapping up to the doorway just before she reaches it.

The Trandoshan bodyguards hiss some question to Skotia that she cannot understand.

"Nothing - yet," he answers them, his voice carrying its usual cybernetic reverberations. His eyes don't leave her. "What makes this slave so bold as to enter my chambers?" he asks with a sneer. "Tell me, slave, are you insane or do you have a death wish?"

"I prefer to think of myself as 'differently rational'," Ibani drawls, meeting his eyes steadily with her own.

Skotia's mangled face quirks in amusement at that. "Kill them," he orders with a satisfied smile to his bodyguards.

But Ibani was prepared for that, and holds out the sacred Trandoshan tablet. The Trandoshan bodyguards pause and hiss something in their native tongue, their tone heavy with uncertainty.

"Clever," Skotia remarks, still seated. "Zash must have stayed up many a night to think of that one. Will you be sending them away, or will you order them to kill me?"

"They may do as they please, I don't need their help to deal with you," Ibani replies. The bodyguards hiss angrily, but not at her. No, they seem quite intent on killing Skotia, on avenging themselves on the cruel Sith.

Skotia lifts a hand and slams one of the bodyguards into a pillar with the Force; Ibani can hear the Trandoshan's spine snap from the impact. The other moves to run away but Skotia lifts him too, chokes him, then snaps his neck and flings his corpse aside like a rag doll.

Skotia is standing now. "You shouldn't have done that. The bodyguards - they're nothing. Show." Skotia's voice turns angry and Ibani can feel him gathering his power about himself. "But you subverted by authority - took my slaves from me. And that - makes me angry." He steps out from behind his desk and smiles viciously. "And killing you will be over too soon. No, I think you're going to have to suffer first."

Ibani struggles for a moment to remind herself that she NEEDS Skotia to come close enough that the device will work. Then, he lunges at her, a wall of man, metal, power and rage and she doesn't have time to think about anything! She dodges, just barely. Kark it, he's too fast!

She rolls, hitting the device's activation button as he moves to choke her with the Force. For a moment, she's afraid that the device isn't going to work, that she's going to suffer a horrible, painful death. But then she sees Skotia struggling, fighting to make his arms move properly, his legs.

YES!

Ibani hits him with a burst of lightning, watches him twitch and fight it as well as his own body. Then, she moves in with her saber. He blocks her strike, but she can see in his eyes that he's struggling.

**************************************************************

He's cracked three of her ribs and left her with a saber gash or two by the time he lies on the floor, dying. Ibani's panting, shaking with near exhaustion.

"What is this?" Skotia croaks out. "How....did you.....Zash! Zash! You've killed me...."

"No, I killed you," Ibani says with a sneer.

"Mindless...." Skotia spits at her. "...you don't know what Zash can do. Think - think of how many years she must have spent plotting my death. She will kill you. Just like....she's killed....me." Skotia's breath comes to a rattling stop and Ibani can feel his death in the Force. She cuts off his head with her lightsaber anyway, just in case.

She rolls her eyes at Skotia's corpse. "Was that supposed to be news to me?" she drawls, holding an aching rib. "I'd be a fool NOT to expect her to murder me."

Khem snorts his agreement.

"When that day comes, I'll be ready for her."

"You are learning, little Sith," Khem Val adds.

Ibani's not sure whether to be pleased or ashamed by his praise. But that question can wait, because she needs to get out of here without being caught, clean up, and make it to a very fancy party....

OOM: Ain't No Party Like A Sith Party

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

This is a part of Kaas City that Ibani has never seen before. The estates spread out below the air taxi as it comes in to land bear little resemblance to the towers and blocks of durasteel, glass and permacrete that make up most of the City. Wealth and power can get you anything, it seems, even your own little worlds of gardens and palatial estates.

Lord Vowrawn's Estate is particularly spectacular, placed to show off the best views of Kaas City with elaborate gardens distracting the eye from less photogenic scenes. Ibani has never seen this much wealth in one place in her entire life and she has to fight the urge to gawp like a yokel. The floors alone....

Ibani doesn't know what kind of stone it is, but the smooth, polished surface is like the night sky reflected in a river. She itches to cut just a tiny piece of the floor with her lightsaber for later examination, and finally has to stick her hands in the pockets of her robe to resist the temptation. The ceilings arch high above her head as she enters the room where the party is being held. The walls are mostly transparasteel, clear walls that give views of the beautiful scenery. But here and there are alcoves that show real as life images of other Imperial Worlds: deserts and forests, ice and plains, examples of the breadth of the Empire.

Some famous Sith aria is playing softly in the background, but Ibani can't recall the name of it off hand. She passes by a table sporting delicacies from half a hundred worlds and absently grabs a glass of wine from a servant to blend in better with the crowd. There seems to be no order to things at first, the crowd a whirling mass of Sith robes, Grey imperial uniforms, and the rare brightly colored dress of the few powerful civilians on Dromund Kaas. The voices tumble over one another in a tumult, an assault on her senses, and she has no idea if her Master is even HERE.

Ibani takes a breath and falls into the Force. A pattern emerges to her senses, people move from cluster to cluster, each cluster centered around a particularly powerful and important Sith. Small talk is the opening move of the dance, rumor and gossip weapon and shield in a hundred little battles happening all at once. The weapons are new to her, as is the field, but Ibani knows the rhythms of battle in her bones. She moves into the flow now as easily as she'd move on a battlefield, gliding gracefully over treacherously smooth stone and crimson rug alike.

"Well, when I heard she'd taken up with a Mandalorian, I was scandalized, just scandalized!"

"A Mandalorian! Does nobody value Sith blood these days?"

"I know, I know."

Khem growls, causing a bureaucrat to widen the space between himself and Khem. "These prattling creatures call themselves Sith? The legacy of Tulak Hord is lost."

"It's a different kind of battle," she explains. "But words can be as dangerous as swords."

Khem shakes his head in disgust. "Fah! This is no battle! A battle spills blood, breaks bone. True Sith should drive their enemies before them, leave them broken and cowering at their feet or crush them beneath their heel."

There, Lord Zash moves out of a cluster just as Ibani prepares to move into its pull.

Lord Zash smiles brightly. "Thank the Emperor you've arrived. It doesn't matter how much one drinks - these parties are just dull dull dull dull dull. I hope you've come to cheer me up?"

Ibani smiles proudly. "It is finished."

Zash's smile then is nearly incandescent. She's transformed with elation, her presence electric. "Brilliant. Simply brilliant! You have performed magnificently, apprentice. None of this would have been possible without you."

Ibani can feel herself responding to the praise, to the warmth in Lord Zash's voice. If she didn't KNOW better, she could mistake Zash for a proud parent right now. As it is, it's hard, very hard, to resist the urge to believe that THIS is the real Zash and not the woman who had her torture a fellow acolyte as her second trial.

Then, Zash's holocommunicator vibrates, signalling an incoming call. They move to a secluded portion of the room and Zash motions her to stand where she can see and hear but not be seen and heard in return.

The man who appears in the holo is familiar to Ibani by reputation. Darth Thanaton, Skotia and Zash's superior in the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. There's no reason for him to be calling her, unless, unless he suspects something. Ibani's stomach sinks.

"Lord Zash."

"Darth Thanaton! I'm honored, but I confess I'm surprised at your calling me." Zash's voice and expression is all pleased surprise. Ibani thinks to herself that she has never seen a better actor.

"You have nerve, Zash - nerve. But I thought you were smarter," Thanaton replies, clearly unamused. Oh no. No. Does he suspect?

"With all respect, Darth Thanaton, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play ignorant with me, Zash," Thanaton growls. "Skotia's dead, and you killed him."

"Skotia? Dead? That's the first I've heard of it. When did this happen?"

Thanaton glares at her. "Just now, Zash - and you know it. What did you expect to gain? His position? His title? You know it doesn't work that way. Where's your discretion!"

"Discretion! I've been at this party for ages. I may have had a little too much to drink, but I'm fairly certain I haven't murdered anyone." Oh, Zash is very good. Not even a little bobble in the Force to tell of that lie. "Though I have always fancied Skotia's chambers - so much more shelf space," Zash adds with a wistful tone.

"Zash!" Thanaton snaps. "I don't want to have this conversation by holo. Report to my chambers immediately."

"Yes, Darth Thanaton. It will be my pleasure," Zash replies with a smile. She closes the holo connection.

He knows. He knows. Force, we're all going to DIE. Ibani swallows hard and pushes the panic back. "Are we in trouble?" Ibani asks quietly.

Lord Zash smiles reassuringly. "Give me time to talk to Thanaton. I'll send you a message when things have settled. And don't worry - you've played your part, now it's time for me to play mine. We did it, apprentice!"

OOM: In the Hall of Traitors

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani has been busy Not Worrying while waiting for Lord Zash to summon her. Right now, Not Worrying involves picking up a very nice set of heavy armor for Garyn and a custom made set of armor for her.The armor provides both protection and a traditional, frightening, Sith look, Ibani feels. It's so much easier to carry off a role in the right costume.

Her holocommunicator buzzes and she nearly jumps out of her skin. It's a message from her Master requesting a meeting in Skotia's office. Ibani doesn't think the Dark Council would bother with tricking her into going somewhere when they could simply have her executed on the spot, but she's still tense as she approaches the office.

Her first thought, when she sees Zash, is to ponder how she gets through doorways with those enormous pauldrons on her shoulder. Her Master beams at her. "I have good news, apprentice! Skotia was Thanaton's little pet, but the members of the Dark Council were impressed with our little sleight of hand. You would've been proud of me," she continues, vastly pleased with herself. "I went in to a reprimand - but I emerged a Darth."

That, that's mind boggling! Ibani only just keeps from having her jaw drop in shock.

Darth Zash continues. "Now our REAL work can begin. Do you remember the map you found on Korriban?"

"Yes, Darth Zash," Ibani replies. "It was a map to a piece of an artifact of Tulak Hord."

"And that piece is here on Dromund Kaas, in the deepest chamber of the Dark Temple. Skotia always hoarded the key to that chamber like a Hutt hoards his credits." Zash smirks. "But now I have Skotia's title, his chambers, his research and his key. He always said I would enter the Dark Temple over his rusting corpse."

Zash pauses. "But I won't be the one to go into the Dark Temple - you will."

"The Dark Temple has been....restless, lately," Ibani offers. Restless meaning that it isn't safe for anyone to go in there right now.

"Most restless," Zash agrees. "Numerous weaker spirits have recently been awakened, stirred up, stealing the flesh of the weak willed for their own. But they are only shadows, nuisances, compared to the spirit that haunts the innermost chamber. It woke long ago, a true Force ghost, implacable in its anger, murdering all who trespassed on the innermost chamber."

A Force ghost? Oh, surely she doesn't mean for Ibani to take on one of THOSE. They can't be hurt by any means Ibani knows of. The only way to, temporarily, stop one is to get it to attack until it runs out of energy to manifest itself and that is usually quite expensive in terms of lives.

"But I had a dream," Zash continues. "An apprentice of low origin humbled themselves before the apparition, pacifying it. That's why you and your peers were singled out."

"A dream?" Ibani asks in a voice only just above a whisper. She'd wondered why her group of acolytes were all slaves, but the truth is cruel. Ibani's had one dream that she's sure is a Force vision, but she'd never risk someone's life on such scant evidence!

"Dreams are when the Force speaks to us most loudly - I believe what I have foreseen. You must go into the temple and face the apparition, and when you do, I believe that your humility will be the key."

Darth Zash's expression turns pensive, sympathetic. "Still, I want you to know - I'm not certain you're the one from my dream. I fear I may be sending you to your death."

It would be nice to think that Zash was actually worried for her well being and not the bother that getting another apprentice would require. "I have a bad habit of not dying, Master," Ibani quips in an attempt to seem far braver than she feels.

Zash smiles at that. "Tulak Hord's power awaits us both. We must not lose sight of this goal. Use this glyph to enter the innermost chamber of the Dark Temple and bring me the piece of the artifact."

Ibani bows and takes her leave. Khem Val looks at her as they leave Darth Zash's new office. "Even the great Tulak Hord did not tangle with spirits. Tread lightly, little Sith. "

Well. THAT'S reassuring.