Reborn in Exile
As the stolen Imperial gunship rose into the clear blue sky beyond the jungle canopy, a group of four Massassai strode away from the landing zone. One carried the limp form of a muscular twi’lek female in his arms as if he were carrying a child.
Few would have been able to understand the sight as the group moved through the jungle, up the steep climb to the ruined temple they called home. War-like, aggressive and savage the Massassai were not known for their gentle or caring nature, but then most did not understand the power of their loyalty, once give it was unquestionable. The lethan twi’lek they now cradled had served the White Lady, and been their leader for a time, they would tend to her until she stood among them again or passed into the other world.
The Force had already spoke of her coming to them, and to the defeat of the White Lady through treachery, betrayal of blood. They knew no details but the understood something significant had happened, something that would change much, just not here on Yavin IV.
The Sith woman’s strength returned quickly within days she was able to stand, once she could stand she was offered the spirit of one of their own. A gift, one that would return her strength to her.
It would be hard to convince anyone the lethan woman standing on the cliff looking out over the jungles of Yavin IV today was the same one that arrives some months ago. Then she had been hovering near death, unable to stand, and barely speak. Now with renewed strength she held her newly crafted saber-staff out before her, examining it under the light of the morning sun.
Lavaeus loathed the loss of her previous weapon. It had been a piece of history, a story of her struggle to earn the title “Sith”. Yet a new saber was fitting, as she was be reborn here, so too was her weapon, crafted in the image of its predecessor, like her, the same; if only on the surface.
Change was slow, in the beginning even she was unaware of how different she was becoming. Control, a once savage battle between will and fury, now just as natural as breathing. Was it the place? Yavin was strong in the Force, but she had spent time here before. The Massassai? The seemed to behave differently to toward her than before. Yet she could exactly say why, or what made it different. According to their leaders Lavaeus herself had commanded her brother to bring her to them. Though they would say little of her first weeks among them, just that they fed her and she grew strong.
She remembered waking in the temple ruins, the Massassai showed here a surprising amount of deference, even offering gifts, some of which would serve as the materials for her saber. Some gifts only a Sith could understand.
The leaders of this tribe were once among the Massassai that Lavaeus commanded on behalf of the White Lady, Mistress Belatrix, others were new, recruited by the elders to server. Most of those that served Belatrix remained at her temple, and while the Massassai likely could have taken her there; Lavaeus saw little point. The Mistress was gone, at least for now, until Car’tulak returned to check on her she had no source of information. The Massassai only knew the Darth had been defeated, nothing more.
With a long sigh Lavaeus stretched, then began her descent along the steep cliff side path to the jungle below. It was time to hunt.
Remnants of those who thought they could find something in the ruins of Yavin’s temples were often found below. Some would be Force sensitive, Jedi, Sith, or others that failed or refused to fall into one definition or the other. These were the ones that interest Lavaeus most, these would be the whetstones to the blade of her skill. The strongest would feed her recovery with their spirits, the others would simply be sport, if they were worthy to be tested at all.
The Massassai watched her descend, she grew stronger by the day, but was not the same creature that had lead them before, this one had been remade in the crucible of her own death. What was to come as she rediscovered herself remained to be seen.