Outside the crumbling entrance of the Sith Academy on Umbara, Zorya stood motionless, her obsidian eyes reflecting the faint bioluminescent glow that pervaded the forsaken planet. Initiating its meticulous resuscitation, she'd deftly exploited a flaw of her own design in the Umbaran airspace, a cunning stratagem. A resource conduit had been established, a pulsating lifeline from the freshly annexed Sith Warehouse on Zeltros, via the cosmic arterial road of the Great Kashyyyk Branch hyperlane, feeding the insatiable maw of the restoration endeavor.
The Sith Academy, a dilapidated edifice of mottled stone and twisted iron, was a monument to the passing of epochs. Its decrepit ramparts bore the scars of neglect, a macabre testament to millennia of disregard. Mired in an atmosphere thick with ancient regret, the ruins whispered of forbidden knowledge, of a time when the acrid smell of the dark side had seeped through its crumbling halls.
The facades had been enshrined in spiky tendrils of Zabrak Spines, their ethereal red glow intertwining with the dour murkiness of Umbara. Creaking trees of Death’s Embrace stood sentinel, their carnivorous flowers laying dormant in the eternal night. The once opulent chambers echoed with silence, choked by the dust of ages and adorned with the spectral remnants of Umbaran frescoes. The sheer majesty of the forgotten lore housed within the derelict halls was as intoxicating as it was desolate.
O'bog had flitted around Zorya like a boisterous wisp, barking at the worker droids in his hearty drawl. "To the left, ya clanking metalheads! Don’t scuff the stonework! It’s older than yer granny’s cogs!" He had stirred the metallic creatures into a frenzy of activity, his capers injecting a semblance of life into the desolation. Zorya, maintaining her eerie silence, had found comfort in O'bog's antics.
A subtle change in the air, a ripple in the Force, had drawn Zorya's attention. She had felt a presence approaching.
@Phoenix