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The Emperor is dead and gone, and without the wealth, power, and connections she had always been able to enjoy, Mara is left adrift. She's managed to scrape by, picking up odd jobs here and there, but nothing really sticks. It's not like any of it is really a career. She's struck out on her own a lot, scavenging, salvaging, trying to rebuild the bits and pieces of her life until she can get her hands on the person responsible for it all: Luke Skywalker.

It's probably little surprise that the old Sith worlds have managed to catch her attention - most of them are as good a place as any to find something interesting, especially if you're tenacious enough to not be dissuaded by some minor challenges. Minor challenges made more difficult by the fact that she doesn't feel the Force as strongly as she used to - or, at all, for the most part.

It's on one of these excursions that she comes across the man encased in carbonite. This place was supposed to be abandoned for a few thousand years - surely it's not still functional - he's probably dead. Her curiousity is piqued, though, and whoever he is, she's fairly confident she can handle it. She debates it for another few moments before giving in and letting her hand hit the panel to thaw him out.

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Awareness comes back to Garth'zel slowly, the hissing of the carbonite as it dissolved telling him what's happening. That he'd been frozen again after the fight with a number of Sith who dogpiled him to prevent the alliance with Empress Acina from being discussed and possibly coming to pass. Not again...

After enough of the carbonite was gone, he falls forwards, landing on hands and knees with a grunt, eyes firmly closed as he pushed back the urge to be sick. Certain he has things under control, he turns his head in the direction of the presence he could sense even though he couldn't actually see anything, tilting his head slightly at what he's picking up. Interesting. Puzzling her out can wait, though. "Who are you? Where's Lana and Theron?"

Mara takes a step back as the carbonite dissolves, letting Garth'zel hit the floor rather unceremoniously. Hibernation sickness should keep him from becoming a serious, immediate threat, and she's a bit surprised he survived, to be honest, especially for who knows how long he's been frozen.

She studies him with mild interest - she's somewhere in between caution and curiousity. "I could ask you the same thing. My name's Mara. Who are Lana and Theron?"

"You set me free, not even knowing who I am?" Her response makes him blink. Just... who does that? That doesn't particularly strike him as a good idea. For numerous reasons.

So much for her being sent by anyone he knew, considering she'd know not only who he was but who Lana and Theron were as well.

"I was fairly certain you wouldn't be much of a threat, freshly released from carbonite," Mara shrugs. "You're not getting off planet without a ship, and it's pretty isolated out here. All in all, I felt it was a reasonably safe choice."

...He can't argue with that, even if it rankles. He frowns, stretching out with the Force to get an idea of his surroundings, sensing his lightsaber buried under a section of wall that had caved in.

He closes his eyes and concentrates on pulling it to him despite everything on top of it, the mound of debris moving as it moves. A stretched out hand later and it hits his palm with a satisfying smack. He rocks back to be on only his knees a moment later, thumbing it on to make sure it survived the weight on it, reassured by the hum of the whiteish-blue blade before turning it off and hooking it onto his belt.

"Despite what the color of the blade might imply, I am not a Jedi," he says a tad dryly. "Lana and Theron are my friends and the people I trusted most in the powerbase I built up to fight someone who was a threat to both the Empire and the Republic."

The ease with which he recalls his lightsaber to his hand is a frustrating reminder that it wasn't that long ago that Mara could do the same, and much, much more, if she had the need to. Ugh. Show off.

She shrugs unconcerned when he says he's not a Jedi. "There are no real Jedi left any more anyway. They were wiped out years ago." She'll indulge him in the history lesson, though, "Who was this threat?"

Give him a moment, he's a little distracted. "What do you mean, wiped out? They took a hit when Arcann attacked, but they were by no means wiped out. There were plenty of Jedi following me in order to deal with him."

She'll allow him to get a bit sidetracked for the moment - it's probably a bit of a shock to find out the Jedi Order is gone, if there were still plenty of them left before he was frozen. "By wiped out, I mean wiped out - hunted down, and killed. That was, oh, about twenty four years ago, or so."

His dismay ripples out in the Force. It's hard to say which bothered him the most at the moment; what happened to the Order or the fact he'd been in carbonite for over twenty years.

Although he has the sinking feeling it may have been for considerably longer, given she showed no sign of recognizing Arcann's name. "You've never heard of Arcann or his sister Vaylin? Empress Acina?"

Mara was raised believing the Jedi turned traitor on the government - and the Emperor's scars were testament to that, so she can't honestly say she's sorry they're gone. Mostly, she's sorry that there were still a few survivors left.

"No, sorry, I've never heard of any of those people," she shakes her head. She never got much in the way of history lessons growing up.

Something Garth'zel is going to find impossible to believe. He's a Sith, yes, but he knows the Jedi. He can't believe they'd turn on the Republic. Maybe one or two here and there if they were well on their way to falling, but not the Order as a whole.

"Arcann and Vaylin have been ravaging the galaxy. It's hard not to know who they are. Acina's the ruler of the Sith Empire and I was on my way to meet with her when... things... happened." Also known as him ending up in carbonite.

Things change over the course of thousands of years. Apparently the Jedi Order was one of those things. It's never occurred to Mara to consider any other possibilities.

"Well, apparently they haven't been ravaging the galaxy for quite some time, if that's any consolation," maybe she's not quite ready yet to drop on him that there's no Sith Empire any more either. He's definitely dating himself, though, and she figures he's been frozen in carbonite a lot longer than she initially thought.

Garth'zel's feelings are mixed. On the one hand, good. On the other... how long has it been? "I'm getting the feeling I've been imprisoned for considerably longer than twenty-four years."

She may not be ready to tell him about the Empire being gone, but it looks like it's coming anyway.

"Well..." she says slowly. "It's been awhile since there was a Jedi Order, but it's been even longer since there was a true Sith Empire..."

She doesn't really have an exact date for him, but she supposes once she returns to her ship, she could use its database to look one up. The ruins are ancient, though, and she supposes once his eyesight returns to him, he'll probably realize just how ancient.

"What?!" The idea the Empire was gone was just... he has no words. He can't imagine it; it's been around for thousands of years. Pushed to the edges of the galaxy for a considerable amount of time, only returning to the larger part mere decades before his birth, yes. Destroyed? No.

"What aren't you telling me?" he demands. He doesn't trust the way she was taking her time with her answer.

There's no easy way to say it, and Mara can't help but feel a bit sorry for him. It's hard to imagine what it would be like to find out everything even remotely familiar has been gone for thousands of years, even though she's quite familiar with how it feels to have your entire life unravel right before your eyes.

"Look - I'm sorry, but these ruins are ancient," she takes a deep breath, and tries to keep her tone as gentle as she can; not that there's any real way to soften the blow. "I'm not sure on the exact date - but from what I've read about the area, I'd say at least a few thousand years old."

"What--no." Even as he voices his denial, he can sense the age of their surroundings and the truth in what she's saying. The Dark Side gathers in as he clenches his hands into fists as he tries to keep it under control.

"Get out," he says through gritted teeth, aware that his control was only going to last just so long; even as it starts to waver, cracks running up an intact wall.

She doesn't need the Force to tell her it's time to get back to the ship. Nor does she even really need to hear it from him, as the intact wall starts crack. He wants to bring the walls in on himself? Fine. She'll stick around to see if he manages to survive what he's about to unleash, but she's not putting herself at risk to do it.

She doesn't even bother taking the time to answer, and instead just makes a hasty retreat for the exit.

Would she prefer this happened on board her ship? No? That's what he thought.

She's just barely out when he lets the Dark Side have free rein, shattering the things still in there as he telekinetically grabs the block he had been encased in to smash it repeatedly against the floor, having enough presence of mind to not risk taking out a wall.

After his rage and pain has been spent several minutes later, he's exhausted, but not about to stay in there. Not with the ominous sounds coming from a section of the roof. He forces himself to his feet, staggering as he briefly loses his balance before managing to make his way out as far as the doorway, where he has to pause and hang on to the frame with his eyes shut, fighting back the effects of hibernation sickness. It's a wonder he managed to get as far as he did, really.

Mara's waiting by her ship, watching to see if he really brings the walls down on his own head, or if he manages to control himself enough to survive. It's a pleasant surprise when he makes it as far as the entrance - she figured even if he didn't kill himself, she'd have to go back in and dig him out.

She goes to meet him by the doorway, figuring he'll probably need a hand from there. "I'm not even going to ask if you're okay."

"Good. Because it's a stupid question," he grunts, opening his eyes even though he couldn't see. He supposes he should do a healing trance later to clear that up.

"To answer an earlier question, I am--was--Darth Imperious of the Dark Council," he says tiredly. "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore."

She can empathize, but doesn't bother saying it. There'll be another time for that story, she's sure.

"Well..." she says slowly. "I suppose you could see it as something of a completely new start - if there's anything you'd rather do differently."

"I think it's a little late to skip becoming a Sith entirely," Garth'zel says dryly. Figuring out what to do can wait until sometime later. After he's had time to finish coming to grips with the magitude of his length of time in carbonite and whatever happened over the last however long it had actually been.

"What planet are we on?" It would be nice to know if it was one he actually knew.

"We all have to adapt to the circumstances we find ourselves in," she shrugs. "There are no other Sith left - the last two were killed months ago."

"We're on Korriz. Where were you when you were attacked?" Maybe he hadn't been moved too far, and at least the planet's familiar to him.

"Dromund Kaas." He mentally places the planets in relation to each other. Still within the Empire's territoy, then.

Or at least, what was its territory. Right, back to the other thing she said instead of giving himself time to dwell. "What happened to them?"