Wide and rounded walls stretched two stories until they adjoined along the
flat ceiling, amplifying all sounds made under their cold exterior. Swirls
of light green spiraled in and out, this way and that, some thin, some
large under the shiny surface of polished marble tiles covering every
surface. Like a green dragon flying through the dark forests of Nirha, each
twisting fault created its own natural and beautiful painting. Rising from
the floor to greet the ceiling, and running in a warped silhouette as if
pulled by an unseen gravity to the center of the hall, the hunching figures
of great warriors long dead, watched all who passed below them. They were
the greatest of Nirha's council, the founding fathers, the Sith lords of
centuries long passed. Glowering faces, each of them stared down on those
who pass bellow, their mouths made of exact angles, reached downward, their
eyes judging, peering down on their guests eternally malcontempt with their
presence. All of the elegant carvings bore dark gray and black marble
flowing capes, coming back to the base upon which they stood. Under the dim
lights, the marble gave a gentle glare, not enough to offend the eyes but
enough to add to the existing majesty of this great hall.
Echoes resounded as the patrolling guards made their way along the dark green marble laden floors. Swiftly and sternly their steps brought them around the corner of the north hallway. Their boots made of a thick and pitch black armor, a very light metal, just as is the armor binding the rest of their bodies echoed thought the halls. Hooded, their faces were covered in a tight black silk, rested just under their eyes and to the bridge of their noses. Their hoods stuck up from various protrusions under the garb, for under these hoods hid the horns common to the Zabrak race. Flowing gently with their strong strides, the capes covering their heads draped down coming to rest over their great shoulders. A dark green trim traced a stripe down the front of the hood, to the end of its tips. Patterns of ancient Sith writing emerged down the sides of the dark green stripes. Each letter alien, yet Asiatic, with straight angles placed into round shapes, shining only slightly more then the capes themselves before flowing back into the darkness beyond the light. Each step deliberate and disciplined, they kept the same pace. Their chest armor, shaped to cover the breast and ribs of the torso also encased the legs. Chrome latches placed into the inseam of the protective black armor caught the light for only a second as they marched.
Coming into the light, the eyes of these soldiers were revealed. A golden ring surrounded the pupils of the masked figure to the left, the other a deep orange pigment. They looked only ahead, eyes opened wide and aware of all things before them. Catching the light, the eyes become bright, like gold and fire they flared as they passed each light.
In a distant hall, small foot steps, quickly placed grew louder. Tiny voices, giggling and full of life could be heard. "Come on!" a young boys voice huffed "Can't you keep up? "Coming around from the corner of the south hall a boy came running as fast as he could. Slender, brown eyes opened wide, the nine-year-old ran ahead. Smiling, his long brown hair flowed behind him as he ran. He rushed past the unconcerned soldiers, a trail of wind from behind ruffled the cape of one of the guards as he passed. Stopping, the boy quickly spun searching the hall he just escaped. Wearing all white, his shirt wraps around him in two sections, both matching the color of his pants and small boots. An aura from the lights above surrounded him. He began to grow impatient.
Heavy heaves from small lungs could be heard as little footsteps began to grow louder from the direction the boy had just ran. "Wait *pant* for me!" an exhausted voiced hollers. Coming around the corner a Zabrak boy, smaller then his human friend by at least ten inches, passes the guards just as they walk into another beam of light and disappear around the corner of the intersecting halls. Unlike the other Zabrak's this boy does not yet have the traditional tattoos on his face that the others of his race bear with such pride. His skin was light, his head bald, except for the barely developed juvenile horns coming out from the crest of his skull. His eyes were his most striking feature, like molten lava behind small rings of glass, the center of his eye a light red, which grew darker before meeting the edge of the retina. Holding his dark blue robes up, so that his small legs could catch up to his friend, he ran with all his strength. Around his neck a collection of beads bobbed up and down and his small sandals clipped and clopped as he slowed before his friend catching his breath. "There you are. I began to worry. You are still quiet slow Mattozixi", the young boy said between deeply inhaled breaths. "Only because you are bigger then me Indo!" the Zabrak boy replied in his own language. Each word clashed together with the hard continents and short vowels such is the Zabrak language, sounding to those who don't know it, to be almost offensive.
"My master boasts that I am the fastest of his students in the class, and father tells me so too," Indo stated matter of factly, each word wrought with arrogant undertones, "He even tells me that I will be Padawan before the others."
"If you do you must take me on adventures with you, to the outer rim! We can march with the new Army our parents talk about!" Mattozixi's eyes began to light up as he spoke about this, even at his early age, his ambition was strong, and no opportunity was too small or unobtainable in his mind. "Then we can become Hero's as we march across the galaxy!"
"I will be like the ancient Docantu, and no one will be able to stand before my saber!" Indo stated again in self assured confidence, as he swung his imaginary light saber too and fro, employing his own saber sounds into the act.
Jumping back to life, Mattozixi parried the invisible attack with his own invisible defense, jumping up and turning in the air towards his friend, "vooshing" and "vroashing" his own saber sound effects with juvenile fervor. He makes his brow low, as he does his best impression of his hero, his attempt at intimidation becomes lost on his youthful charm. "Then I would be like the great Darth Maul!" he looked at his friend in the eyes while keeping his face pointed as low as he could, so that the boy was looking just under his brow. Again he lunged towards his friend pretending to gouge him with his weapon, a vision not shared by his foe who of course blocked and parried the attack.
They began to run again, fighting as they made their way down the rest of the hall. Mattozixi spit as his saber made its sounds from his mouth. They would run, stop, duel and run again laughing as they did. Both were a great hero, each one stronger then any mortal being in the Galaxy. Their faces glowed from their sabers and sparks flew about as the beams of light collided.
Unaware, they had made their way to the doors of the great hall, "I won. I killed you like 30 times!" Mattozixi informed his friend in Zabrak, who he branded as the loser of the duel, "Did not! Each time I blocked your attacks, and I used the force to choke you!" Indo stated with a dreadfully serious face. "Did so...!" he began to retort, but stopped short. His attention was grabbed from the duel and his evidence of victory by a sudden roar from inside the council. Loud voices muffled by the stone doors before them.
Two doors rose to the ceiling, indistinguishable patterns ran along both. In the center of the door the traditional symbol of the Sith rested around masterfully detailed rings of Voritors. The Voritor, a giant lizard found on Dantooine, a planet much of the Sith were forced to flee from long ago in an age long passed. Voritors are a wicked creature with little remorse, or mind for its victim, often paralyzing them to eat later, often slowly. It is little wonder why the Sith adopted this creature to represent their nature. Each Voritor was eating the tale of the other, until they all came together into a never-ending circle. In the center of the ring, the runic symbol for 'Revenge' was carved deeply into a large gold facet. Most of the door consisted of runes, and the natural beauty of the buffed marble. Blue force crystals, one a piece, were placed into the top of the doors handles each the size of a clenched fist. The handles to the door were a whole foot above Indo.
Mattozixi could see himself in the dark green marbles reflection as he listened through the door. "I can't hear them, what are they saying?" the young Zabrak whispered, hoping to hear over his own hushed words. He tried putting his ear against the cold surface straining to catch the words of the council as they slammed into the doors too shattered to decipher. Indo joined his friend, with his ear against the door. They made faces of bewilderment at one another. They could tell something was amiss; it was not like the council to be in such an uproar.
"I know a way, come on," Mattozixi beckoned, as his small legs began to take him away. "K," Indo agreed, nodding a bit, slightly nervous. Excitedly but with all the stealth he was capable, Mattozixi lead his friend into a smaller dark hall way just to the west of the giant doors. The lights were off, and its ceiling reached only ten feet, seeming cramped in comparison to the larger doors and colossal Halls of the Sith Lords. It stretched around veered down a small grade leading to the large kitchen below. Usually it was used by the chefs and server droids to keep the council from parchment or starvation during normal meeting times, but today it was inactive, more fuel for the boy's suspicions. On a day when the servers and cooks were home on their day off, why was there a meeting? The small Zabrak wondered.
On most occasions Mattozixi would go down the hall, lurking to avoid the lead chef who would yell and curse if he were caught on his way to the kitchen. He would make his way to Yuti, the desert chef. He was a fat Twi- lek, with two long muscular "head tails," as they were nick named by the race. His skin was a spotted green, each spot a darker green. For keeping him company Yuti would pick him up and sit him on the counter giving him a Sweet Red Sufliti warm from the oven, as the young Zabrak would watch the old Twi-leks masterful hands quickly shell rock beetles or baby tortars while helping with a large meal. He would ask the boy if he was studying, and how his brothers were. Usually he would tease the boy a bit about his lack of developed horns, and Mattozixi would inform the chef of his latest adventure. Occasionally the chef would stop and chuckle at some detail created by the boys' imagination, and he would have to hold his fat stomach as he laughed aloud.
They reached the bottom of the hall and entered the stainless kitchen. Lit only by minuscule lights placed into the walls to guide the morning crew, the boy too made their way between the cold metal tables and worked their way from the entrance across the 20 yard expanse of the room. Moving quickly Indo tried his best to make his way through the darkness and follow his companion. Bumping into a misplaced pot, it slid under a table and collided with the metal leg creating a resounding *Clang*. Both boys stopped, Matto swung around raising his finger to his lips, "Shh!" he asserted lowering his brow and wearing a scowl combined of both worry and anger. They looked around the room a bit, Indo not even seeing his friends face due to the darkness was more concerned with being heard.
A sudden mechanical sound in the far corner and two glowing eyes grabbed their attention. Both frightened boys looked about for a place to hide. "The kitchen is not in service at this time. Protocol 380 states there will be no service. Returning to suspended mode now. Have a nice day" a deep electronic voice said. The eyes became dark again.
"It's just P5-C1" Matto explained while letting out a deep breath. Indo too let out his breath, becoming slightly light headed while completely relieved.
Quickly sliding to the floor on his knees, Mattozixi began to crawl towards a small grate in the wall. It was just a bit larger then the boys and lead to part of the Council halls ventilation. The voices could again be heard from between the thin section of metal making up the grate. "This will take us close so we can hear them," Matto whispered, pointing ahead. Indo now joined him on his knees trying to peer into the dark opening. "K... there better not be any Nazarts in there," Indo said with uncertainty, almost shivering at the thought of the hairless rat like rodents. "I don't know. Better get a kitchen knife, if there are I will cut them." He assured Indo. Finding one only feet from where they were Indo gave it to the Zabrak boy, who in turn began to use it to remove the grate.
He had been in the kitchen, when the maintenance men had come. They were Aqualish, a hairy creature with four lid-less black eyes, their hands had but only thumbs and palms and their sponge like mouths are a bit frightening to a boy who had never seen one before. He never forgot their pungent wet fur stench. Many times Yurti would offer them some food which they sucked up into their faces quickly all the while making slurping sounds. Matto sat looking at them with an slack jaw and blank look on his youthful pale face. After their snack, the two Aqualish spoke to one another in their native tongue, comprised of grunting, gurgles and hoots. This too was intriguing to the young Matto, who again could only stare slack jawed at the two as they worked. Eventually they sent in a small ball shaped droid into the ventilation which fixed what ever problem ailed the council members. Later Mattozixi would have to come and explore, finding its outlet into the council hall one late afternoon.
Moving the grate to the side of the floor, he discarded the knife, careful not to let Indo see him hide it under the now removed slab of metal. Matto knew better then to be scared of any Nazarts in the clean ventilation. "You have to crawl and we have to go slow. It makes noises when you try to go fast." He said trying his best to make eye contact through the dark with the young human boy, who nodded back in response.
They began to make their way. Crawling on all fours, the distant voices began to grow louder. In little time they had made their way through the cramped passageway to see a light shining brightly ahead. Through the thin grating they could see the council, with a fair view of all those attending the meeting. It was shaped like half of a giant bowl, one half with seats reaching to just below the very grate the curious boys now looked out of, on the other half, a stage. On the center platform was a dais, behind it, three elevated chairs. As if cut from the same stone, the center chair rose a foot and a half higher balanced the other two lower seats. They were made of a dark blue stone with cushions laden across the tops of them, far more comfortable then they looked.
In the left chair sat Mattozixi's mother, her face was held high in attempt to look strong and proud, but gazing into his mothers visage he knew something was wrong. Her face was young, her skin smooth. Her features were soft and her high cheeks bones complimented her full lips and slender face. Her long blond hair came from the center of her head, and parted between two large horns, under the hair three more horns ran down the crest of her head, the source for Mattozixi's crest. The tattoo on her face comprised of two I beam like bars in a dark peach tone that complimented her light skin. One came across her light purple eyes, and the other across the left cheek to the right with her deep red lips in the center of the side ways "I" shaped branding. Yukami was considered to be a very attractive female to her race.
To be continued...
Echoes resounded as the patrolling guards made their way along the dark green marble laden floors. Swiftly and sternly their steps brought them around the corner of the north hallway. Their boots made of a thick and pitch black armor, a very light metal, just as is the armor binding the rest of their bodies echoed thought the halls. Hooded, their faces were covered in a tight black silk, rested just under their eyes and to the bridge of their noses. Their hoods stuck up from various protrusions under the garb, for under these hoods hid the horns common to the Zabrak race. Flowing gently with their strong strides, the capes covering their heads draped down coming to rest over their great shoulders. A dark green trim traced a stripe down the front of the hood, to the end of its tips. Patterns of ancient Sith writing emerged down the sides of the dark green stripes. Each letter alien, yet Asiatic, with straight angles placed into round shapes, shining only slightly more then the capes themselves before flowing back into the darkness beyond the light. Each step deliberate and disciplined, they kept the same pace. Their chest armor, shaped to cover the breast and ribs of the torso also encased the legs. Chrome latches placed into the inseam of the protective black armor caught the light for only a second as they marched.
Coming into the light, the eyes of these soldiers were revealed. A golden ring surrounded the pupils of the masked figure to the left, the other a deep orange pigment. They looked only ahead, eyes opened wide and aware of all things before them. Catching the light, the eyes become bright, like gold and fire they flared as they passed each light.
In a distant hall, small foot steps, quickly placed grew louder. Tiny voices, giggling and full of life could be heard. "Come on!" a young boys voice huffed "Can't you keep up? "Coming around from the corner of the south hall a boy came running as fast as he could. Slender, brown eyes opened wide, the nine-year-old ran ahead. Smiling, his long brown hair flowed behind him as he ran. He rushed past the unconcerned soldiers, a trail of wind from behind ruffled the cape of one of the guards as he passed. Stopping, the boy quickly spun searching the hall he just escaped. Wearing all white, his shirt wraps around him in two sections, both matching the color of his pants and small boots. An aura from the lights above surrounded him. He began to grow impatient.
Heavy heaves from small lungs could be heard as little footsteps began to grow louder from the direction the boy had just ran. "Wait *pant* for me!" an exhausted voiced hollers. Coming around the corner a Zabrak boy, smaller then his human friend by at least ten inches, passes the guards just as they walk into another beam of light and disappear around the corner of the intersecting halls. Unlike the other Zabrak's this boy does not yet have the traditional tattoos on his face that the others of his race bear with such pride. His skin was light, his head bald, except for the barely developed juvenile horns coming out from the crest of his skull. His eyes were his most striking feature, like molten lava behind small rings of glass, the center of his eye a light red, which grew darker before meeting the edge of the retina. Holding his dark blue robes up, so that his small legs could catch up to his friend, he ran with all his strength. Around his neck a collection of beads bobbed up and down and his small sandals clipped and clopped as he slowed before his friend catching his breath. "There you are. I began to worry. You are still quiet slow Mattozixi", the young boy said between deeply inhaled breaths. "Only because you are bigger then me Indo!" the Zabrak boy replied in his own language. Each word clashed together with the hard continents and short vowels such is the Zabrak language, sounding to those who don't know it, to be almost offensive.
"My master boasts that I am the fastest of his students in the class, and father tells me so too," Indo stated matter of factly, each word wrought with arrogant undertones, "He even tells me that I will be Padawan before the others."
"If you do you must take me on adventures with you, to the outer rim! We can march with the new Army our parents talk about!" Mattozixi's eyes began to light up as he spoke about this, even at his early age, his ambition was strong, and no opportunity was too small or unobtainable in his mind. "Then we can become Hero's as we march across the galaxy!"
"I will be like the ancient Docantu, and no one will be able to stand before my saber!" Indo stated again in self assured confidence, as he swung his imaginary light saber too and fro, employing his own saber sounds into the act.
Jumping back to life, Mattozixi parried the invisible attack with his own invisible defense, jumping up and turning in the air towards his friend, "vooshing" and "vroashing" his own saber sound effects with juvenile fervor. He makes his brow low, as he does his best impression of his hero, his attempt at intimidation becomes lost on his youthful charm. "Then I would be like the great Darth Maul!" he looked at his friend in the eyes while keeping his face pointed as low as he could, so that the boy was looking just under his brow. Again he lunged towards his friend pretending to gouge him with his weapon, a vision not shared by his foe who of course blocked and parried the attack.
They began to run again, fighting as they made their way down the rest of the hall. Mattozixi spit as his saber made its sounds from his mouth. They would run, stop, duel and run again laughing as they did. Both were a great hero, each one stronger then any mortal being in the Galaxy. Their faces glowed from their sabers and sparks flew about as the beams of light collided.
Unaware, they had made their way to the doors of the great hall, "I won. I killed you like 30 times!" Mattozixi informed his friend in Zabrak, who he branded as the loser of the duel, "Did not! Each time I blocked your attacks, and I used the force to choke you!" Indo stated with a dreadfully serious face. "Did so...!" he began to retort, but stopped short. His attention was grabbed from the duel and his evidence of victory by a sudden roar from inside the council. Loud voices muffled by the stone doors before them.
Two doors rose to the ceiling, indistinguishable patterns ran along both. In the center of the door the traditional symbol of the Sith rested around masterfully detailed rings of Voritors. The Voritor, a giant lizard found on Dantooine, a planet much of the Sith were forced to flee from long ago in an age long passed. Voritors are a wicked creature with little remorse, or mind for its victim, often paralyzing them to eat later, often slowly. It is little wonder why the Sith adopted this creature to represent their nature. Each Voritor was eating the tale of the other, until they all came together into a never-ending circle. In the center of the ring, the runic symbol for 'Revenge' was carved deeply into a large gold facet. Most of the door consisted of runes, and the natural beauty of the buffed marble. Blue force crystals, one a piece, were placed into the top of the doors handles each the size of a clenched fist. The handles to the door were a whole foot above Indo.
Mattozixi could see himself in the dark green marbles reflection as he listened through the door. "I can't hear them, what are they saying?" the young Zabrak whispered, hoping to hear over his own hushed words. He tried putting his ear against the cold surface straining to catch the words of the council as they slammed into the doors too shattered to decipher. Indo joined his friend, with his ear against the door. They made faces of bewilderment at one another. They could tell something was amiss; it was not like the council to be in such an uproar.
"I know a way, come on," Mattozixi beckoned, as his small legs began to take him away. "K," Indo agreed, nodding a bit, slightly nervous. Excitedly but with all the stealth he was capable, Mattozixi lead his friend into a smaller dark hall way just to the west of the giant doors. The lights were off, and its ceiling reached only ten feet, seeming cramped in comparison to the larger doors and colossal Halls of the Sith Lords. It stretched around veered down a small grade leading to the large kitchen below. Usually it was used by the chefs and server droids to keep the council from parchment or starvation during normal meeting times, but today it was inactive, more fuel for the boy's suspicions. On a day when the servers and cooks were home on their day off, why was there a meeting? The small Zabrak wondered.
On most occasions Mattozixi would go down the hall, lurking to avoid the lead chef who would yell and curse if he were caught on his way to the kitchen. He would make his way to Yuti, the desert chef. He was a fat Twi- lek, with two long muscular "head tails," as they were nick named by the race. His skin was a spotted green, each spot a darker green. For keeping him company Yuti would pick him up and sit him on the counter giving him a Sweet Red Sufliti warm from the oven, as the young Zabrak would watch the old Twi-leks masterful hands quickly shell rock beetles or baby tortars while helping with a large meal. He would ask the boy if he was studying, and how his brothers were. Usually he would tease the boy a bit about his lack of developed horns, and Mattozixi would inform the chef of his latest adventure. Occasionally the chef would stop and chuckle at some detail created by the boys' imagination, and he would have to hold his fat stomach as he laughed aloud.
They reached the bottom of the hall and entered the stainless kitchen. Lit only by minuscule lights placed into the walls to guide the morning crew, the boy too made their way between the cold metal tables and worked their way from the entrance across the 20 yard expanse of the room. Moving quickly Indo tried his best to make his way through the darkness and follow his companion. Bumping into a misplaced pot, it slid under a table and collided with the metal leg creating a resounding *Clang*. Both boys stopped, Matto swung around raising his finger to his lips, "Shh!" he asserted lowering his brow and wearing a scowl combined of both worry and anger. They looked around the room a bit, Indo not even seeing his friends face due to the darkness was more concerned with being heard.
A sudden mechanical sound in the far corner and two glowing eyes grabbed their attention. Both frightened boys looked about for a place to hide. "The kitchen is not in service at this time. Protocol 380 states there will be no service. Returning to suspended mode now. Have a nice day" a deep electronic voice said. The eyes became dark again.
"It's just P5-C1" Matto explained while letting out a deep breath. Indo too let out his breath, becoming slightly light headed while completely relieved.
Quickly sliding to the floor on his knees, Mattozixi began to crawl towards a small grate in the wall. It was just a bit larger then the boys and lead to part of the Council halls ventilation. The voices could again be heard from between the thin section of metal making up the grate. "This will take us close so we can hear them," Matto whispered, pointing ahead. Indo now joined him on his knees trying to peer into the dark opening. "K... there better not be any Nazarts in there," Indo said with uncertainty, almost shivering at the thought of the hairless rat like rodents. "I don't know. Better get a kitchen knife, if there are I will cut them." He assured Indo. Finding one only feet from where they were Indo gave it to the Zabrak boy, who in turn began to use it to remove the grate.
He had been in the kitchen, when the maintenance men had come. They were Aqualish, a hairy creature with four lid-less black eyes, their hands had but only thumbs and palms and their sponge like mouths are a bit frightening to a boy who had never seen one before. He never forgot their pungent wet fur stench. Many times Yurti would offer them some food which they sucked up into their faces quickly all the while making slurping sounds. Matto sat looking at them with an slack jaw and blank look on his youthful pale face. After their snack, the two Aqualish spoke to one another in their native tongue, comprised of grunting, gurgles and hoots. This too was intriguing to the young Matto, who again could only stare slack jawed at the two as they worked. Eventually they sent in a small ball shaped droid into the ventilation which fixed what ever problem ailed the council members. Later Mattozixi would have to come and explore, finding its outlet into the council hall one late afternoon.
Moving the grate to the side of the floor, he discarded the knife, careful not to let Indo see him hide it under the now removed slab of metal. Matto knew better then to be scared of any Nazarts in the clean ventilation. "You have to crawl and we have to go slow. It makes noises when you try to go fast." He said trying his best to make eye contact through the dark with the young human boy, who nodded back in response.
They began to make their way. Crawling on all fours, the distant voices began to grow louder. In little time they had made their way through the cramped passageway to see a light shining brightly ahead. Through the thin grating they could see the council, with a fair view of all those attending the meeting. It was shaped like half of a giant bowl, one half with seats reaching to just below the very grate the curious boys now looked out of, on the other half, a stage. On the center platform was a dais, behind it, three elevated chairs. As if cut from the same stone, the center chair rose a foot and a half higher balanced the other two lower seats. They were made of a dark blue stone with cushions laden across the tops of them, far more comfortable then they looked.
In the left chair sat Mattozixi's mother, her face was held high in attempt to look strong and proud, but gazing into his mothers visage he knew something was wrong. Her face was young, her skin smooth. Her features were soft and her high cheeks bones complimented her full lips and slender face. Her long blond hair came from the center of her head, and parted between two large horns, under the hair three more horns ran down the crest of her head, the source for Mattozixi's crest. The tattoo on her face comprised of two I beam like bars in a dark peach tone that complimented her light skin. One came across her light purple eyes, and the other across the left cheek to the right with her deep red lips in the center of the side ways "I" shaped branding. Yukami was considered to be a very attractive female to her race.
To be continued...