Who: Darth Bel’lah and Kylo Ren What: The old order meets the new Where: Korriban Rating: G
There was something comforting to Bel’lah that, even after three and a half millennia, Korriban still felt like home. Sands had shifted, buildings crumbled, but even the length of her absence was not enough to completely alter the terrain she had come to know so well in her lifetime. How many tests had she been sent forth to complete as an acolyte, searching for this item or that, venturing into the tombs and forgotten valleys? And how many times had she returned triumphant, surviving where others had failed, their corpses laid out for the k’lor’slugs and tuk’ata to gorge upon?
She knew now how relatively short-lived that era of glory had come to be. There was still a monumental gap in her knowledge, as the records she’d found only carried through a few centuries after she was frozen. But the contact she had made with this new First Order seemed promising, at least from an informational standpoint. More complete records, more access than her outdated sources could manage. Her conversation with Master Kestriel had also proved enlightening; even if they now stood on opposite sides of the fight, Bel’lah was encouraged to know she would at least have one opponent worthy of her consideration.
Or if necessary, an ally, she mused as she rode the speeder bike out to the location she had designated, several kilometers from the Academy. It seemed a token gesture, setting their meeting such a distance away. She imagined that if they truly wanted to, the First Order could take the Academy with ease. Still, her contacts had been gracious enough to indulge her chosen meeting point. That at least indicated an interest in exploring some kind of working relationship.
She brought the speeder to a halt as it approached the edge of a bluff, overhanging the valley below. The outcropping left plenty of room for a shuttle to land by her measure, while still allowing her to keep a keen eye on her surroundings. The First Order hadn’t given her reason to distrust them yet, but she had learned enough hard lessons when it came to underestimation of those around her, friend or foe.
Her arms crossed over her chest as she took in her surroundings, feeling the dark energy of the planet as it continued to stir awake after so many years spent dormant. She had spent a fair amount of her time here meditating upon it, rekindling her connection to power of its legacy. Were she more philosophically minded, that might have been enough to sate her; but she was a warrior, and cutting through pests and ancient training droids with her lightsaber was quickly growing old. She needed focus again, a purpose to give her meaning behind each step once again.
Overhead, she heard the unmistakable crack of a vessel breaking into the atmosphere, and turned her amber eyes skyward to watch the craft descend. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her incoming guest, the so-called Master of the Knights of Ren, whatever that title meant. That they were affiliated with the First Order seemed to indicate an inclination to the Dark Side, but failing to call themselves Sith gave her pause. Perhaps it is deference, knowing that they have no right to be Sith, she told herself. Or perhaps they are arrogant enough to think that they are better. And perhaps they are right.
After all, here she stood, the last of the Sith awaiting the emissary of a new order. Perhaps they could succeed where she had failed.
The bat-like shuttle descended, landing neatly on the reddish sand of the desert surface. Its wingspan folded neatly to touch at its apex. A gangway deployed amid a hissing of white exhaust, giving an over dramatic entrance to the black figure who walked down its steps. Kylo Ren's mask swayed over the landscape before him, then centered on the figure who waited nearby. Whether he was surprised or shocked to see the reality of her was undeterminable through the facade he wore, but it was clear he was attuned to his purpose as he strode toward her with intentional steps.
Two stormtroopers in polished armor followed behind him, though a raised fist quickly had them halting near the shuttle's gangway. Each held a standard-issue blaster at the ready, though their faces were just as mute as their master's.
Kylo came to a stop at a comfortable distance from Bel'lah, his head angling up slightly in either judgement or pride. "Darth Bel'lah, I presume?" His modulated voice held a tinge of wry amusement, as though he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Ordinarily, Bel’lah would have written him off for such theatrics. So many Sith Lords of her era had played into similar methods, and she had quickly grown tired of the pageantry. But she sensed a great power in her visitor, which she would be foolish to ignore. Whether or not she chose to become an ally of his, she certainly had no desire to become his enemy.
Her arms swept wide, a gesture of her geniality. “Welcome to Korriban, Master Ren,” she replied, not bothering to suppress her own amusement as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I must say, that was quite the entrance. Do you land like that for everyone, or am I just that special?”
Her gaze narrowed for a moment, shifting to the two troopers standing at attention just inside the shuttle. “I must be, if you brought your friends along.” Her expression relaxed back to a pleasant neutrality. “Of course, I understand completely. I'd do the same, if our positions were reversed.”
"I've found it helps to make an impression," he replied, adding to her sarcasm with his own. He was unmoving from his stance, his mask's visor squarely focused on the Sith before him. "Setting a tone helps break the ice. And the troopers are merely a formality, though I assume, for someone with a title like the Empire's Wrath, it would take more than two soldiers to offer a true threat."
“How right you are, Master Ren,” Bel’lah affirmed with just a hint of a smirk. “But I appreciate the gesture. It’s flattering, really. When I learned how far out of time I’d awoken, I wasn’t sure anyone would remember me. The legacy of the Sith endures.”
She paused a moment, considering him once again with a more critical eye. “And yet, you aren’t Sith. I can feel the power of the dark side in you, but you answer to the call of Ren. Why is that, I wonder?”
He was quiet for a moment, clearly turning her question over in his mind carefully. "I am not what you are. My grandfather claimed a Darth title, but the Sith and the Jedi are dead. If you have not learned that by now, you've spent too much time holed up here on Korriban.
"And now you're reaching out, weighing your options, are you not?"
Bel’lah shook her head, a tinge of sadness shadowing her amber eyes. What was ancient history to him remained a fresh wound to her. “I am well aware of the fate that has befallen the Sith. I sensed it the moment I awakened, a void in the Force like nothing I have ever experienced before.”
She still vividly remembered watching Ziost consumed by Vitiate’s power and the debilitating sensation of being crushed by the sudden, massive loss of life. At the time, she didn't think it possible to feel anything more devastating than watching her childhood homeworld turn to ash before her eyes. Waking to the knowledge that everything she had known, everyone she had loved, even her entire species was long lost had made Ziost a mere annoyance in comparison. But she would not be bowed by it; instead, with each new revelation, she became more determined to make up what she had lost.
With a deep inhale, her moment of sorrow passed, her focus returning to her guest. “I returned to Korriban because it is my home, solid ground to stand upon as I seek my place in a new age. As the Wrath, I fought to preserve the Sith Empire from those who would destroy it. Now I'm curious to see if your fledgling Order is worthy of my legacy.”
Whether he was offended by her remark or not was unknowable behind his mask. His voice likewise remained neutral.
"You certainly have the pride of a Sith. But you have done little to prove yourself beyond claiming titles that hold no evidence toward the skill you claim you possess."
She couldn't help herself. Her head fell back as peals of laughter trickled forth. Oh, how she longed for the days when her very name carried with it a sense of fear and respect from even the lowliest intelligences in the farthest corners of the Galaxy. Still, she couldn't begrudge him his skepticism. Even the Dark Council had been hesitant to believe her, until she slaughtered Darth Baras before them.
As her laugh faded away, something changed behind her eyes. In one swift motion, she had raised a hand, reaching out through the Force to lift the two troopers off their feet. With a flick of her wrist, their necks snapped, lifeless bodies flung further into the shuttle.
“Make no mistake, I am not just Sith in name, but Sith in blood,” she told him, her voice gone cold to match the dangerous gleam in her eyes. “I am a warrior, not a soldier. I will not simply kneel before you and submit.”
Kylo's mask moved incrementally toward the soldiers, but gave no other sign of distress. If anything, it was merely more proof of his belief in the expendability of the First Order's soldiers, and perhaps another argument to make to Hux for the necessity of clone troops. He knew the general would give him an earful for the waste of two well-groomed troopers, but in that moment, the Sith held his attention to a far greater extent.
His visor settled back on the female humanoid before him, impassive as ever. His voice, however, held a spark of something. "Impressive. I'm not looking for mindless automatons who can only follow orders. I want knights who can work autonomously; those who can think on their feet, but whose goals align with my own. There is much to be gained within the First Order as it continues its successful conquering of the Republic." He paused.
"You must be looking for a place among all this chaos that you've awoken to. You would find a welcome one within our ranks."
“Knights,” she scoffed. “You sound like the Jedi. But you're not wrong, I am looking for purpose, once again. And if it means finally bringing the Republic to heel, all the better.”
She gave a short nod of acknowledgment. “You may consider me an ally in this war, Master Ren, if you so desire. But I would caution you against the thought that you are in any way my master.” Her tone lightened, a wry smile pulling at the corner of her lips as she added, “After all, I have a history of killing them.”
"A warning duly noted," he replied. "Are you planning on lingering here for long? Otherwise I believe our Supreme Leader would enjoy making your acquaintance."
“Supreme Leader?” Bel’lah echoed, cocking an eyebrow in intrigue. “Not as pretentious as ‘Immortal Emperor’, but it gets the point across.”
She let her gaze wander for a moment, looking out past the bluff they stood on to the valley below, the jagged peaks beyond. Lingering implied an impatience, an impetuous desire to be elsewhere. She remembered feeling the same way, before Vitiate and Zakuul and the carbonite, before she was forcibly removed from everywhere for so long.
But she had never belonged on Korriban, not permanently. She was always destined to go out among the stars, descending upon those who defied the will of the Emperor, the Empire. The Supreme Leader, she mused.
“No, I suppose the time has come for me to leave this place once again,” she told him. “Unless you'd like to see the ruins of the Sith legacy firsthand.”
"Only if you promise that I won't find a weapon decorating my back, or elsewhere," he quipped, making light of her earlier comment. There was no one here to protect him, not that the Master of the Knights of Ren needed sheltering. "I would be pleased to receive a history of this place from someone who walked its halls all those years ago."
“Ah, a sense of humor!” Bel’lah gave a small clap of delight. “I was starting to worry there was nothing but gloom under that mask of yours.”
She keyed the coordinates for the Academy’s landing pad into the communicator on her wrist, transmitting them to the shuttle’s computer. “I can't imagine you'd want to walk all the way there,” she told him, giving a quick glance at his command shuttle. “I shall meet you there shortly. Although I would caution against too much independent exploration - the tombs can be particularly perilous.”
With that, she retreated back to her speeder bike, firing up the Scythe as she swung her leg over and settled into the seat. She gave her new ally one last, short nod of acknowledgement, before taking off across the sands back toward the Academy. A strange excitement had started to settle in; she imagined it was what children felt when they made a new friend. Granted, she had her quiet reservations - particularly about this “Supreme Leader” - but for now, she was satisfied to simply be building a place for herself once again.